Once Bitten and Three Day Old Jeans
by Marjorie K. Place
Summary: LaSalle's promiscuity lands him hot water. Can Brody save him? Inspired by a small conversation from 2.1 No Spoilers. LaSalle/Brody
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I know I shouldn't post another story, but you should all know that by now I work best when I have 3-4 irons in the fire. This one is based on the implied promiscuity of our grieving boy from Bama.

 **Rated T:**

LaSalle was late Agent, Sonja Percy, groaned as she sat in her car in front of the warehouse the two of them were supposed to infiltrate. She'd already tried calling his cell four times this morning and was ready to rip his head off. They'd been working this sting for months waiting for the suspect to make just the right move and now that he had LaSalle was nowhere to be found.

"Pride, where the hell is LaSalle? He's supposed to be here backin' me up!"

"I'm having Patton put a trace on his cell right now." Pride returned via the Bluetooth. "I'm almost there, just hang tight."

Dwayne Pride was worried. Over the last several days, he and Brody had noticed a change in his surrogate son. For the past three nights, Chris had been at the office burning the midnight oil trying to make headway on the case that he and Percy had been working. If Pride had to guess, he'd say that Chris hadn't slept in just as many days. The overabundant amount of energy that he'd been displaying lately was reason for concern, given the agent's family history. He'd seen Chris like this before when he was all worked up over something but usually it took care of itself.

But the fact that his number one had not shown up for work and was currently off the grid well that was an entirely different matter and it scared the hell out of him. For weeks, Pride purposely ignored the reappearance of three day old pants and backroom gossip that his agent had started down a destructive path that included late nights with several different women. It wasn't Pride's business how Christopher chose to spend his off time unless it started to affect the younger man's work which hadn't until now.

* * *

Meredith Brody reached into her pocket removed the spare key to LaSalle's house. The fact that he failed to show up for the sting operation with Percy had her mind on overload. Her partner, beloved Boy from Bama, just wouldn't up and decide not to show up for work and not tell anybody. That's not how he was made.

Entering the house, she took her time surveying the living room. Everything seemed to be in place. From there she moved to the kitchen and then the bedroom.

The bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, in days but it was hard to tell. Maybe he'd just gotten up early and actually took the time to make it. Maybe, but the rest of the house just looked too neat. Not that LaSalle was a slob by any means, but it was the way things had been organized. Everything said obsessive manner. Chris' shoes had all be taken out of the wardrobe and were arranged by color, size and occasion, something that he would never do if not given encouragement.

Chris LaSalle definitely wasn't the OCD type but at times his older brother Cade was. Hmm…had Cade possibly gone on a cleaning spree again? She was certain though that Cade was still in Alabama allowing his younger sibling some space to grieve over his former girlfriend, Savannah Kelly.

Moving into the bathroom, Brody began to scour the medicine cabinet. Nothing out of the usual, shaving cream, deodorant, antacid, Advil, a couple of unfinished antibiotics, allergy meds, and an untouched prescription for a sleep aid. Closing the door to the cabinet, Brody looked straight into the mirror. "Ok, LaSalle where the hell are you?"

* * *

The theme song from Rescue Me was playing in Chris LaSalle's head and boy tell you what; The Von Bondies were giving a stellar performance. Only LaSalle wasn't a fan. How that song got stuck in his head was a mystery. Speaking of his head it felt like someone had repeatedly taken a crow bar to it.

The morning sun, streaming in the window didn't help matters any. Even with his eyes still closed it managed to intensify his migraine size of a headache. Giving up, he opened his eyes to a haze.

Something definitely wasn't right. In fact, he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Looking around he could barely comprehend his whereabouts. Fewer things terrified him more than waking up in unfamiliar territory. Sitting up, he felt a rush to his head, a sensation of vertigo that made him close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. For a moment he actually thought he might be sick.

Tossing the covers back, he realized he was in commando mode. That's right, buck naked in a hotel room with no memory of how he had gotten there. Well that was awesome. He supposed next a woman he'd never met before would strolling out of the bathroom. When that didn't happen he pushed to his feet to the floor and walked over to the dresser to retrieve his phone. For some unknown reason it was turned off. Four missed calls from Percy, nice. He was supposed to meet her today for something but couldn't remember what.

He knew he should be upset by this but he wasn't. The fog that was surrounding his brain seemed to be immune to the correct emotional response. He was still so dang tired and if it weren't for the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place he would crawl right back into that bed and sleep off whatever the hell was causing him to be so out of sorts.

He spotted yesterday's clothes in a heap on the floor and bent over to pick them up. As he did, he felt a rather irritating sensation start to crawl up his left side. It wasn't pain really it was more like a sting. Finding his way to the bathroom, he flipped on the light and began to examine what looked like a perfect set of human teeth marks right below his rib cage embedded in the soft tissue above his hip, turning he noticed the same pattern on his back.

Had someone actually bitten him? Ok, now he was beginning to get worried. What in the hell had happened to him last night? Honestly, he should be able to recall if he had been bitten. But nope, the tight band of pain encircling his head would not let him.

Forfeiting a shower, he dressed quickly and went back over to the dresser to collect his gun, keys, and wallet. As he started to put himself back together, he noticed that his badge was missing.

Damn. It should have been right there with his gun.

After a complete search of the room, it was nowhere to be found. Looking under the bed, he heard the sound of someone push something underneath the door.

It was the receipt for his night stay at The Prince of Arms Hotel. Well at least he knew where he was now. Although the name at the top of receipt disturbed him: _Ryan McClain._

It was an alias he had used a few months back when he and Brody had gone undercover together. Why would he come to a hotel and use an alias? The Prince of Arms wasn't a bad hotel by any means, it was just old and like many hotels in New Orleans it needed updating.

Back to the alias… he tried to think of case he might be working but nothing came to mind, not one that needed an alias anyway.

Brody… Partner… Girlfriend or Partner with benefits. He wasn't sure which, could be all of the above at the moment. Whichever it was he needed her help. In the back of his mind he knew he should call Pride, but he couldn't bring himself to explain his predicament. It was too weird, so out of character for him. This seemed like something Cade would have done before he started his treatment.

Cade. A thought occurred to him and he quickly pushed to the back of his mind. Nope, not going there just yet, the odds of both he and Cade suffering from…

This obviously had to be the work of someone who had had something against him. An old case, perhaps? Someone with an axe to grind? Yes, that had it to be it. Anything else would be unacceptable.

He managed to make his way outside and again was attacked by the evil sunlight. Sun glasses ,where were they? He thought groping around at his pockets. In the truck? Now the big question was where the hell was his truck? Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the keys and hit the red alarm button, listening for the beep.

Nothing. Christ, things had just gone from bad to worse. The only bright spot in this whole messed scenario was that he was in the Quarter. He could walk home if he had to.

But damn. Missing badge, missing truck how in the world was he ever going to explain this to Pride? The thought of somehow disappointing his surrogate father started to twist in his gut. He'd never gone off the rails before at least never like this.

Locking his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes and prayed. He was just about to open his eyes when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Christopher?"

It was Pride and Brody was with him. Definitely not the answer he had been looking for when he taken his predicament to the Almighty.

Slowly, he turned around flashing his signature grin. "Hey King, Brody."

Pride's eyes shifted exchanging worried glances with Brody. "Are you ok, Son?"

The times that Dwayne Pride actually called Chris LaSalle son, were few and far between these days, but when he did it usually meant business.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" he quipped still grinning like a guilty fool with something to hide. He would say just about anything right now if he meant he didn't have to tell Pride about his badge and the truck.

This time it was Brody who shifted her eyes toward Pride who raised his eyebrows in response. They'd only been able to find their missing colleague because his phone had suddenly come back online.

"Chris, you've been missing for two days." Brody said growing more and more worried about her partner and best friend.

Two days? How in the hell had he lost two whole days?

 **A/N II: Could be shippy or not. Maybe just a good ol fashioned mystery for our favorite duo.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the great opening comments and for adding this one to your alerts. This mystery is just getting started!**

 **cdl and guest: thank you so much for taking the time to comment and welcome to my crazy world of writing.**

How in the hell had he lost two whole days?

He needed a plan. Normally, he would never outright lie to Pride but he needed time to be able to assess his predicament. So, he came up with a halfcocked story about following up on a tip from Ross P. regarding a cold case that they had a few years back. It wasn't the best story he'd ever come up with but for the moment would keep Pride off his back.

"I didn't mean ta go off the grid, King."

Pride gave him a simple nod and said something about calling next time before directing Brody to drive him home. No mention of the truck.

The ten minute drive back to his place was a quite one with the exception of Brody trying to probe him about the details of the supposed cold case he was working.

He tried to remember the details of one that he and Pride worked but his mind was still fuzzy. "Ya got any Advil?" he asked earning a look.

"In my purse," Brody said, wondering why he couldn't make it the couple of blocks to his garden style courtyard apartment "But there's plenty in your medicine cabinet."

"Ya went through my medicine cabinet?" he asked as he started to dig through the contents of her signature Michael Kors tote. Normally, he would think that it was rude to be going through a woman's purse, but he needed to find a way to escape the anvil that had been dropped on his head.

"You were missing, off the grid or whatever." Brody reminded him, as she snatched her purse out of his hands and tucked it in beside her. She was pissed that Pride had seemingly let her partner off with a warning.

Chris was relieved when they pulled up to his place and saw the truck sitting in his usual parking space. The only thing was it shouldn't have been there, at least not today. And so the plot thickened. If the truck was here then how had he gotten to that hotel?

He thanked Brody for the ride and started for the gate, hoping she would leave. But as luck would have it, she was on to him.

"Not so fast." She said into his back as they entered the courtyard and went into the house through the back door.

Chris raised his eyes heavenward as she grabbed his elbow, wanting answers. Answers, he did not have.

"You lied to Pride. Now, he may buy your story but I don't."

"And why is that?" he lowered his eyes to where her hand lay on his arm giving her a clear signal to let go.

She quickly retracted the demanding hand, crossing her arms over her chest. She was angry, not to mention it was downright reckless and stupid to go off the grid without letting anyone know, especially during the middle of a case.

"This isn't like you, Chris." She watched as he pursed his lips, sensing he wanted to say something. Eyes widening, she looked at him expectantly. So many things just were not adding up, the three day old clothes for one. There was a time during Madi Gras when he'd done something similar, but it certainly wasn't habit for the man.

"Maybe you just don't know me as well as ya think." He tossed out watching her eyes drop. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need ta take a shower before I get back ta work."

"Ut…uh…I'm not leaving," Brody held her ground. There was something going on with her partner and she was determined to find out exactly what.

"Suit yourself," LaSalle shrugged, heading for the bedroom. He hoped that Brody wouldn't follow. He needed to find a way to get to his kit so that he could swab the bite marks on his side and run it for DNA. Whoever had left them there might be able to offer an explanation as to why he was missing two days of his life. But the only problem was he would need to go back outside to the truck to retrieve necessary equipment.

Doing an about face, he turned back to the living room, where Brody had taken to one of his muscle cars magazines.

"That was fast."

"I left my shaving kit in the truck." He said without thinking.

Brody's eyes shifted back and forth. "You live here. What is your shaving kit doing in the truck?"

Since Savannah died, he had done just about anything he could to avoid going into his bedroom and having to look at the dreaded spot in front of the window. Routinely, he kept a change of clothing and his shaving kit in the truck. It made it easier for the nights he sought the company of other women to just to have a place to crash so that he could avoid having to come home at all.

"I didn't know how long I was going to gone, so I took it with me."

Brody smiled a like a cat who had just eaten a canary. Gotcha. "But your truck has been here, parked the entire time."

LaSalle's face suddenly changed. Whether he liked it or not he was busted. Stammering, he hastily tossed out an excuse, "Well…I ended up ridin' with Ross P at the last minute."

Brody pursed her lips in such a way that her bottom lip was almost sticking out. "That's interesting since Ross P doesn't own a car."

"He borrowed one." Chris countered.

"So the two of you could do what exactly?" She flashed the magazine at him. "Go out joyriding?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but it's really none of your business." He despised the fact that she was trying to interrogate him in his own home about things that were none of her concern.

She heard the rising tension in his voice and decided to take a step back. Obviously, she had hit some sort of nerve. Whatever, Chris had been doing for the past two days was clearly going to remain a mystery until he decided to share.

"Well, I'll just see you back at the office then." There was a slight in hinge in her voice that reflected hurt. She thought they were closer than this. Having given him Emily's chain for the medallion Savannah had left for him, she hoped that they had formed a bond, but she guessed that she was wrong.

Chris rolled his eyes in defeat as she started to walk away. "Brody, wait. I didn't mean to snap at ya." He said, giving her an apologetic, little boy look.

She wanted to say something sappy to the fact that it really hurt that he was choosing not to open up to her but instead, she respected his choice, taking note of his eyes. There was something different about them today but at the moment she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"It's fine," she said dismissively.

Chris waited a reasonable amount of time, making sure she was gone before heading out to his truck and retrieving the kit. Once back inside, he haphazardly, tossed it onto the kitchen table and tugged off his shirt. Propping his left hip, onto the table edge he pulled a DNA swab free from its wrapper and twisted the cotton filled tip into the imprinted bite marks. He was just about finished, when Brody suddenly burst back in startling him, causing him to nearly drop the swab.

"Your eyes are dilated." She blurted out before taking notice of what he was doing. "What are you…?" she moved closer, focusing on his exposed side. "Are those teeth marks?"

She no longer cared about waiting until he was ready to share as she moved in for a closer look, gently poking around the affected area. Whoever had bitten him had managed to sink their teeth in deep.

"What the hell happened to you, Chris?" Over the last couple of months, she had tried very hard not to meddle in her partner's unconventional grieving process of women and whatnot but given the fact that he was trying to collect a DNA sample from his own flesh it was obvious that the bite marks hadn't come about with his consent.

"That's what I'm tryin' ta figure out." He replied, as he carefully packaged up the swab. When he was finished Brody reached out and grabbed his chin.

"Look at me." Brody leaned in raising her irises to him. Normally, his eyes were very dark blue but today his pupils were so large that it blocked out the normal cheerful, serene, hue that she often found herself attracted to. She tried to think about all the possible reasons that his eyes could be dilated during the middle of broad daylight, but couldn't come up with an answer that she wanted to accept.

"Put your shirt back on." They were going to see Sebastian.

LaSalle made a face, he knew what she was thinking and to an extent he would need to see the forensic lab geek to get his DNA swab tested but he wasn't sure that he wanted anyone else to know about his predicament. "I have an idea, just lem'me grab a quick shower and then we can be on our way."

"Chris-"

He threw his hands up in defense. "Five minutes."

* * *

Brody stood in the background, giving her partner a disgusted glance as he flashed a pretty female phlebotomist his best grin, thanking her in a flirtatious manner that only he could deliver.

"Thank ya, again for this, Jennifer," he smiled as she wrapped a rubber strap above his elbow and probed his arm for a suitable vein.

"This might hurt a bit," Jennifer quipped, licking her lips as she stuck him for the blood draw. "So you wanna come over sometime later this week? I put a new toothbrush in the bathroom for you."

He was still grinning like a fool when he and Brody walked back out to the car with the blood sample.

"You know, I was going to have Sebastian do that." Brody said, tugging the driver door open as LaSalle stepped off the curb and circled around to the other side.

"Yeah, but Jennifer's a lot prettier."

"So you and Jennifer then?" she hinted, pulling the seatbelt over her shoulder. "Is it serious?"

"It's not what ya think," he replied, his happy grin changing to more a somber and mournful expression.

Brody turned on the ignition and checked the mirrors. "Then help me understand, Chris."

He turned his head, staring out the window, "It's not somethin' I really want ta talk about." He replied as the Bluetooth suddenly came to life with Pride's voice filling the cab.

"Chris, Brody, where ya at?"

Uh…the two agents exchanged wide eyes and dumbfounded non-verbal glances as they tried to come up something plausible.

"We're on our way to the lab to double check the lab results from Percy and LaSalle's case." Brody tossed out flustered.

"We'll be quick about it." Pride's voice came back. "We've got a problem."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A big thank you to everyone who added this story to their alert! Thanks to C.O.L. for all of your inspiring chats on characterization. I'm all for keepin' the banter between Brody and LaSalle!**

 **Guest Reviewer: Thank you for words. Those test results will be out soon!**

"Oh no you don't," Agent Sonja Percy hissed as her so called training agent appeared in the doorway with Brody, looking more than a little haggard. Not that she cared about that at the moment. It was the cavalier grin he was wearing across his face, that had the new agent seeing red. LaSalle's ongoing promiscuous behavior had cost her a case, causing a would-be-killer to go free.

"Don't you dare waltz in here lookin all happy and shit," she ground putting her palms solidly into his chest. Whatever bonding, friendship, which had begun to develop between them was gone. She no longer cared if he was grieving over his vanilla flavored mermaid. She was done.

LaSalle looked at her a bit wild eyed as her dark eyes flashed fire at him.

"And you!" Percy whirled, directing her anger at Pride. "You just gonna let him get away with not showin' up for two days?"

"I'll take care of it," Pride shot back, unappreciative of her tone. "But for right now, I need for you and Brody to go back and re-interview all of the witnesses on your case. See if you can learn something new."

"Back to square one?" The petite agent's eyes went wide. LaSalle would most definitely pay for this, in some unpleasant shape or form of her most vengeful creation.

"The two of you can start right now," Pride said as the former ATF agent dared to try and stare him down.

Sonja finally rolled her eyes, consenting to defeat. "C'mon, luscious locks. I'll introduce to all twenty five of my new friends, I'm sure they'll just be thrilled to give their statements again!"

Brody gave LaSalle a doubtful glance as she walked out behind the angry agent. It would take her days to interview all of those witnesses but at least, she had been able to assist her partner with getting the blood and DNA samples to lab. With any luck, Sebastian would have something for them soon. She wanted to give his arm a small squeeze in show of support but with Sonja on the warpath and Pride looking like a father who was about to give a harsh tongue lashing to his son, she didn't dare. She would just simply call him tonight when the dust had begun to settle.

After Percy and Brody had gone, Pride circled around his desk searching for the words, there hadn't been too many times when he had to come down on his surrogate son for going outside the lines, but now that their little NCIS family had grown, his position as the agent in charge had change. It was no longer the just the two of them tearing through the rule book and doing as they pleased. He had no choice but to take an authoritative stand.

Stalling, Pride scratched at his cheek. "So, I talked to Ross P a little bit ago…"

"You talked to Ross P behind my back?" LaSalle clipped cutting him off. "King, he's my informant."

Pride put his hands out. "Just relax. He confirmed that the two of you were workin' together on a case and that ya ran into some trouble. "

He did? LaSalle made a mental note to thank his C.I. later for whatever story he had cooked up and told Pride.

"But-"

"But," Pride repeated, disappointed in LaSalle's inability to tell him the truth. Yes, he had talked to Ross P but after just two seconds it had been easy to see that the trusted informant was lying through his teeth. "I'm suspending ya"

"King-"

"Two weeks"

"Two weeks?"

"You're strugglin' Chris, you need the time off to get your head together." Pride hated sounding like an uncaring boss towards the man he thought of as a son. Especially since the center of Chris' problem was his fault. If he hadn't gone after Baitfish, then Savannah would still be alive and Chris would still be at the top of his game.

"Fine." LaSalle realized how easy it would be just to come clean and tell his friend and mentor the truth about waking up in the hotel room and the bite marks, but in all honestly this unexpected gift of time would give him a chance to investigate and find out what had really happened. If the results showed that foul play was involved then he'd bring King in but if they showed that he had some how just screwed up then it would give him the opportunity to try and save face.

* * *

It was almost nine when Brody met LaSalle back at his place. "Is that pizza from next door?" After a long day of interviewing witnesses with Percy she was famished. Even greasy pizza with a side of crawdads and beer sounded like heavenly, given the late hour and rueful growl of her stomach.

LaSalle gave her a nod. "There's cold beer in the frig, knock yourself out."

Watching her eat the pizza and a chug beer brought a smile to his face. He had to admit he found amusement in the times that Brody stepped out of her white collar upbringing and came down to his blue collar level.

"So did you hear back from Sebastian, yet?" Brody asked devouring a slice like she hadn't eaten in days.

"No," Chris said lowly as he took a pull from his beer. "But then again, I probably won't considering that Pride suspended me."

What? Brody's eyes went wide as she picked up a paper towel and blotted her mouth. She was so concerned over the possibilities of what had might have happened to LaSalle that she hadn't bothered to check back in with Pride after she and Percy had finished for the day.

"Two weeks."

"Did you try telling him what happened?"

Chris shook his head before taking another a pull, letting the thought process in Brody's head. He could tell by the look on her face that he was about to get a lecture.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, suddenly distracted by the amount of perspiration that was forming on his brow and cheeks. The man was starting to sweat like a pig.

Chris shrugged at her. He still had a dull headache behind his eyes that refused to go away but other than being dog dead tired he felt fine.

Brody's eyes narrowed. His eyes were still dilated, he was sweating and to top it off she thought he looked a little pale. "Maybe you should see a doctor. Those bite marks could be infected."

Chris grinned at her as he plucked a slice of pizza from the box. "I'll put some peroxide on it before I go to bed."

Brody began to play with the chain around her neck. "Speaking of going to bed, where do you plan on sleeping tonight? I know you haven't been sleeping here."

LaSalle's eyes narrowed as he finished chewing, setting his slice of pizza onto a paper plate. "You been pokin' around in things that are not your concern again?"

"You're my partner and my friend, which makes you my concern." She countered.

LaSalle raked a hand over his mouth. "Fine, I haven't been sleepin here, which is I was so puzzled this morning when we pulled up and the truck was sitting in the driveway."

Brody settled back in her chair, nodding. "So, where should it have been? Jennifer's?" She knew that ultimately, LaSalle's current sleeping arrangements weren't her business and might not have had anything to do with his so called predicament so she allowed him a way out.

"Caught me." He quipped.

"So someone took the truck and put in your driveway. Why?"

"Find the answer to that and mab'be we'll find out who bit me." He quipped, pulling to his feet and heading toward the refrigerator. "Ya, wanna another beer?"

"No, I'm good." She said, wrapping her hands around the dark brown bottle that she had yet to finish. "Listen, if you want a place to stay, you're more than welcome to have my couch."

LaSalle nodded, pursing his lips. He appreciated the gesture, he really did, but getting over Savannah's murder and the fact that his house had been shot all to hell was his to deal with and for the moment he was handling the best way he could.

"So how'd it go re-interviewing all those witnesses?"

Brody lifted her eyebrows engaging in a playful smile. "I can definitely see why Sonja is mad you."

LaSalle twisted the top of his fresh beer. "Ya know, I would never do willingly do anything to jeopardize a case."

"I know and for the record you don't have to try to convince me of anything."

"But Percy's a different story." He grinned.

"You could try telling her the truth."

"Can't." he replied quickly. "Not until I figure out some more things."

"You mean not until _we_ figure out some more things." Brody said as she reached for the last slice of pizza in the time with the chime of the front door.

"You expecting company?"

"No."

Brody set down her pizza and followed him to the door, hanging back with her hand on her Glock. A nagging feeling in her gut told her something was not right.

Chris opened the door, to see a female JAG lawyer and two military M.P.s standing on his front porch. Pride was standing at their rear.

"Christopher LaSalle," the JAG lawyer addressed, "You need to come with us."

LaSalle looked over their heads at Pride. "What's goin' on, King?"

 **A/N: FYI, he's not being accused of murder. But he is in some very hot water...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews and new alerts on the last chapter. There's a lot going on this chapter and it was getting rather long so I had to cut it a bit short but try to pay attention to the details. They're all important.** **btw, I'm so excited we're getting a Pride and LaSalle moment in the next episode, wish it were Brody and LaSalle but I'll definitely take Pride talking to LaSalle about his grief!**

Pride, Percy and Brody all stood at the glass as JAG Lawyer, Commander Cadence Avery, began to question their colleague. Little was known about the reasoning for treating LaSalle like a suspect, other than his badge had been used in some sort of crime.

"Agent LaSalle, can you tell me where you were two nights ago?"

Chris looked at his agency appointed lawyer, waiting for the green light. "No ma'am, I can't."

The JAG Commander let out an exasperated sigh. "Can't or won't?"

"I don't remember."

Avery smiled tightly. "And why is that?"

Chris opened his mouth to speak, as the agency lawyer threw a hand up. "There's a history of bipolar disorder in the family. It's quite possible that Agent LaSalle was suffering from some sort of manic episode."

LaSalle shifted his eyes, but said nothing. Something had definitely happened to him to cause him to lose two whole days but bipolar disorder was not it or at least he hoped that wasn't the case.

Commander Avery opened a file, sliding a picture across the table. It was photograph of a young woman Caucasian woman, dressed in a Navy uniform with a porcelain complexion and long flowing red hair that was tied up in a bun. "Have you ever seen this woman?"

Chris studied the photo for a moment before pushing it away. "Can't say that I have."

Avery looked toward the two way window, displeased with LaSalle's answer. "She doesn't look like anyone you know?"

"What are ya getting' at?" Clearly, he had not missed the fact that the woman in question had several features that made her somewhat resemble the woman he most recently lost. The red hair and porcelain skin and green eyes had been hard to miss. In fact, they had pretty much driven a dagger through his chest and Commander Avery knew it.

Avery started to play coy, "How long has it been since your girlfriend was murdered, four, five months ago?"

"It'll be six months on Saturday," Chris started to rise to his feet. "Now, if you're finished discussing my personal life, I've got better things to do."

"Like partying on Bourbon Street until all hours?"

"I'm out of here."

"Sit down, Agent," The over confident commander ordered, "otherwise, I'll have you formally detained."

"On what grounds?" LaSalle challenged, "Last time I checked, drinkin' and having a good time wasn't a crime."

"Accessory to murder," Avery reached into a large manila envelope and pulled out an evidence bag. Inside was a shiny gold badge. "Second class petty officer, Alexandra Hale was found murdered last night with your badge pinned to her chest."

* * *

"Why weren't we in on this?" Percy hissed at Pride. A dead Navy Petty Officer, should have been their case.

Pride spoke calmly, never taking his eyes off LaSalle. "Director Vance decided to call in the team from Corpus Christie, in order to keep things clean."

"They think LaSalle did this?" Percy asked with an uneasy hitch to her usual snarky tone.

"Not to my knowledge." Pride answered in his calm stoic way. If he was worried about LaSalle, the man certainly wasn't showing it.

* * *

Chris steeled himself as he locked eyes with the tenacious commander. "Accessory?"

"You're lucky," Avery clipped. "Video has the two of you entering the Prince of Arms hotel the night before she was killed. You registered under the name of Ryan McClain, stayed in room 212 and didn't leave until-"

"This morning," Chris finished hoping he had somewhat of an alibi.

"You can relax agent, we're not charging you with anything… yet." Avery said smugly as she mentioned that other evidence pointed away from LaSalle. "We're just trying to put all of the pieces together, figure out where you fit into all this."

"Dang that boy has some issues," Percy quipped from where she stood on the opposite side of the glass.

Brody shook her head, "That's not like Chris." Yes, the man had his issues, but she doubted that he wasn't so far gone that he go out looking for women who resembled Savannah.

Percy crossed her arms over her chest, "How do you know? Ever since his mermaid died, the man's been bedding everything that's female with a pulse." It only seemed logical to the newbie that he might seek out a woman to replace his childhood crush.

Ignoring the comment, Brody pulled out her cell phone. "Sebastian, its Brody. I need the results from the blood sample that LaSalle and I brought by earlier."

"The initial screening came back clean, save for the blood alcohol level."

"But?"

"I did a second check for ruffies and it tested positive for a very high quantity of Methaqualone and Versed.

"Quaaludes?" Brody questioned, referencing the popular drug from the 70's and 80's. She had no idea that the antiquated drug was still out on the streets, much less prescribed by physicians.

"Originally, it was used by researchers and physicians as hypnotic type of sedative to treat insomnia. It became a very popular party drug in the late sixties and seventies due it to the fact that can also be used as a very powerful aphrodisiac. The effects of someone who was given such a high dosage as this sample could last as long as 90 hours."

"90?" Brody's eyes went wide. No wonder LaSalle was still looking like he was battling the hangover from hell, as for the aphrodisiac part, Brody refused to let her mind go there, with LaSalle's excessive partying and extensive knowledge of street drugs from his years with vice an unpleasant picture was forming in her head.

"Combined with Versed, whoever took this has virtually no chance of remembering the time span between the time the drugs were administered until several days afterwards. Other possible side effects, could include excessive drowsiness, headache, respiratory issues and-

"Dilation of the eyes," Brody finished as she looked back through the glass at Chris.

"Depending on when the drugs were administered the person running around with all of this in their system is headed for a serious crash, but until then the arousal effect-"

"That's enough!" Brody clipped, her voice rising. The last thing she needed was an image of LaSalle with- "what about the DNA sample?"

"Had to send it outside the lab could be a couple of days." Not that it really mattered considering it now looked like the bite marks had most likely come from their dead petty officer.

"Thanks," She hung up the phone and looked at Pride. "LaSalle was drugged. He didn't show up for two days because he couldn't."

Pride sank his teeth into his bottom lip. Someone was using his agent, surrogate son and he didn't like it. Pride exited the room and re-entered through the courtyard entrance.

"I'm sorry Commander but that's enough for now, I've just come into some information regarding Agent LaSalle's health."

LaSalle did a double take, looking at Pride bewildered as the overzealous Commander began to protest.

"I'm not finished!"

"He'll answer all of your questions later, right now, he needs medical attention." Pride moved towards LaSalle, "Let's go, Christopher."

"King, what's going on?"

Pride quickly shuffled his agent outside, "just keep moving," he told Chris as they made their way to the parking structure. "Get in." They drove straight to the morgue where he knew Loretta would give them sanctuary.

* * *

Loretta let out a deep sigh as she looked around Pride to see LaSalle talking with Sebastian. "With the amount of drugs that were in that's boy's system, he could have easily gone into cardiac arrest or had a stroke. He's lucky to be alive, Dwanye."

"So somebody tried to kill him?"

"I'd say that's a good possibility. Most victims who come into contact with a hypnotic sedative usually ingest a very small amount, enough to make them lose anywhere from 3-6 hours, but this…"

Loretta was so disturbed she had to take in a breath, "His heart is still racing, his blood pressure is elevated, his white count is up, the sweating. Something is not right."

Pride placed a hand on her shoulder. "What do you need him to do?"

"Let me keep him here for the night, run some tests." Lord knew if anything the man needed to rest. Even though he 'd become a master at avoiding it eventually his body was going to shut down due to all of the abuse.

"Ok" Pride returned knowing his young sidekick. LaSalle wasn't going to want to stay, especially with all the new information surrounding his predicament. "But he may not be too happy about that."

"I can handle, Christopher. You just go do what you need to keep him safe, " Loretta replied with a warm smile.

* * *

"Why Quaaludes? If Chris' assailant already had Versed." It didn't make sense. Both drugs were essentially the same, though one was a bit outdated, recreationally speaking. Brody walked alongside Pride as they started to follow up with possible leads. A hunch lead them back to the family practice office where Chris had his blood drawn.

"Jennifer Coleman?" Brody flashed her badge. "Federal Agents, Brody and Pride. we'd like to speak with you about Agent, Christopher LaSalle."

The woman's voice quavered slightly. "I need to get someone to cover my patient."

"We'll wait here," Pride smiled as the pretty RN high tailed it to the back, hitting the backdoor hard.

Damn it. Brody and Pride exited the medical plaza out the front, each taking a different direction around the building. Brody heels hit the pavement, igniting a sharp, intense burning pain that reminded her she needed more sensible shoes. Never again was she going to make fun of Percy for wearing unstylish high top sneakers.

Racing around the side, she came face to face with 2011 Toyota Corolla, Nurse Jennifer at the driver's seat. Setting herself, she took aim as the car drew closer, praying she wouldn't have to fire. But the woman was not letting up. Brody committed to firing when Pride suddenly dove at her knocking them both into a set a trash cans that were sitting on the curb.

"I had her!" Brody snarled as the impact of the crash reminded her that she was on the hard concrete.

Pride, breathing hard, rolled over onto his back and looked heavenward as his aging body started to protest. "She had you." The sound of his cell phone pulled him back upright before he was ready, causing the agent some lightheadedness. "It's Loretta," he told Brody before answering. "Good Morning, Loretta. How's Christopher?"

"That's why I'm calling."

Pride felt a knot form in his stomach at the sound of her voice. "What is it?"

"I went home to check on Danny and TJ and when I got back, he was gone. Sebastian said something about Christopher receiving a text with a photograph."

Pride listened as she apologized profusely. "Don't worry, Loretta. Brody and I will find him."

"I'm trying his cell right now," Brody mouthed as Pride finished up with Loretta. "Nothing straight to voice mail."

* * *

Chris LaSalle stood in the middle of City Park feeling like his world was crashing down upon him. Again-. He held his phone in his hand, looking at the missed call from Brody. He knew the smart thing to do would be to call her back, but he wasn't thinking rationally at the moment. There was dead women that he had never seen before with his badge pinned to her chest, strange bite marks in his side from said dead woman, enough drugs in his system that supposedly when they wore off he was going to hibernate like a bear, and now a mysterious text with a familiar photograph from a blocked number.

The photograph was one of his favorite pictures of Savannah, her long flowing strawberry red hair, cascading down one shoulder and a bright smile that really brought out the green in her eyes. God, she was beautiful he swallowed, pushing down the lump in his throat as he thought about how much he'd let the images of her in his mind fade. For the last six months all he had tried to do was banish her memory from his thoughts and now suddenly her picture was staring at him right in the face, tearing open wounds that had not yet started to heal.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here we are at another chapter. Enjoy! FYI, I wrote a big chunk of this story before "I Do" aired. So, this is different twist on a similar storyline.**

Chris LaSalle stood in the middle of City Park feeling like his world was crashing down upon him. Again-. He held his phone in his hand, looking at the missed call from Brody. He knew the smart thing to do would be to call her back, but he wasn't thinking rationally at the moment. There was a dead woman that he had never seen before with his badge pinned to her chest, strange bite marks in his side from said dead woman, enough drugs in his system that supposedly when they wore off he was going to hibernate longer than a bear, and now a mysterious text with a familiar photograph from a blocked number.

The photograph was one of his favorite pictures of Savannah, her long flowing strawberry red hair, cascading down one shoulder and a bright smile that really brought out the green in her eyes. God, she was beautiful he swallowed, pushing down the lump in his throat as he thought about how much he'd let the images of her in his mind fade. For the last six months all he had tried to do was banish her memory from his thoughts and now suddenly her picture was staring at him right in the face, tearing open wounds that had not yet started to heal.

"Agent LaSalle," A hand touched his back giving him a start.

Wild blue eyes looked down at the familiar figure. "What are you doin' here?"

* * *

"LaSalle's nurse friend is on her way home." Percy scoffed from the passenger's seat of the Expedition as Brody drove.

"Really?" Brody would have liked to have given the fleeing nurse credit for almost running her down, but going home? Either Jennifer Coleman was stupid, or she wasn't the potential murderer that the agent perceived her to be.

Minutes later, she and Percy were walking the drive to Coleman's median level brick home. "I'll take the front, you take the back."

Percy nodded drawing her weapon before dashing toward the side gate.

Brody pulled her weapon from the holster at her side, and held it up right, knocking on the door. "Jennifer Coleman, NCIS!" Waiting just a couple of seconds, she kicked at the door, entering with her gun trained, Coleman's back fleeing from her toward the back of the house.

"Stop!" Brody gave chase swerving around the furniture. The gap between them closed when Coleman flung open the backdoor, coming face to face with Percy's Sig Saucer.

"Nobody messes with Country Mouse and then tries to run down B!" Wide eyed and lip curled the petite agent marched the woman back into the house, where Brody promptly cuffed her and escorted her back to the Expedition.

In interrogation, Brody stared down the women who had tried to run her down and presumably tried to hurt her partner. "What's your connection to Agent LaSalle?"

Jennifer hung her head. "I met him in bar, he seemed nice. He said, he could help me."

Brody's brow furrowed. "help you?"

"My real name is Nancy LaSota. I came here three years ago from the Pacific Northwest because my husband…he used to beat me. One night, I got tired of it and set our house on fire and didn't bother to wake his drunk ass. I walked out and haven't looked back."

"Until…" There was always a _but_ or an _until_.

"Until, my husband's brother showed up at the clinic where I work, threatening to turn me in. He wanted money and uh…other things."

Ah, so she was not only wanted by the authorities for murder but she was also being blackmailed.

"Agent LaSalle was staying at my house while he looked into my case. He said he could protect me."

"So, why did you run, when we came to clinic?" Brody quizzed the woman.

Jennifer shrugged. "I thought you were going to have me extradited back home. I didn't want to face murder charges!"

Brody frowned thoughtfully as she pulled to her feet. "You may have to, but if your story checks out, we may be able to help."

* * *

Percy hung up the phone, "Well, that was dead-end as far as LaSalle is concerned. Nurse with the mad driving skills story checks out."

"So you think it might be the brother-in-law who's after Chris?" It was stretch but Brody knew they had to check out every possibility.

Percy shook her head. "I don't know, B. Doesn't seem like the guy would go through all of the trouble just to get LaSalle out of the picture if he thought he was threat." A well placed bullet would do the same thing with less effort.

Brody circled around her desk, reaching for her phone. "Speaking of LaSalle, nobody's heard from him for a while."

 _Ring, ring, ring._

Voicemail again. "This is the second time he hasn't picked up my call, I'm going to have Patton track his phone."

"Already done," Patton Plame answered as he his fingers tapped the key board. "The tower near City Park picked up his signal about an hour ago. Pride went to check it out. According to GPS, the phone is still there."

* * *

"Walking my dog," the cute Jack Russel Terrier at the woman's side yipped, smiling up at his owner happily.

"Beautiful day for that," LaSalle smiled at the woman he knew as Savannah's former secretary. She was nice lady from what he remembered, Savannah had liked the hardworking graduate student.

The woman looked down at the phone in his hand, the picture of Savannah still displayed. "That is a lovely picture of Savannah."

"Yeah…it is," he had to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat as he cleared the picture from the screen.

"It's such a shame." The woman frowned. "The two of you were such a cute couple."

"Thank ya," His voice nearly went horse as he said goodbye at the sight of Pride jogging toward him.

"King," he said as Pride slowed his jog to more of a walk.

"Where ya been? I thought you were going to stay with Loretta?"

"I needed some air." Chris shrugged as the older man place a mollifying hand on his shoulder. "Someone sent me a picture of Savannah."

"Well, the next time you need air, you call me." Pride said sternly. "Until this settled, you're either with me, or Brody."

"Why not Percy?" LaSalle asked solely out of curiosity.

"Percy's still new, learning the ropes of our team. I'll task her with other things."

LaSalle nodded he could understand for so long it had just been the two of them until Brody had come along. It seemed only natural that their newest addition of their team earned his full trust. "Ya know, I don't need babysitter, right?"

Pride kept his hand on the younger man's shoulder, as they started to leave the park. "It's not up for debate. Besides, I think it's time I started taking a little bit better care of my family and that first and foremost that includes you."

* * *

LaSalle pinched the bridge of his nose, the dim lighting in his kitchen, reigniting a vicious head ache. He and Brody had been pouring over a pirated copy of Alexandria Hale's file. The woman was seen entering his hotel room and then wound up dead with his badge pinned to her chest.

Brody stood behind him, gently kneading his shoulders. "You know, if Pride catches us with this, we're both looking at Kitchen clean up and coffee runs for eternity?"

"Well, a little coffee and a little cleanin' never hurt anyone." Chris reached for the mug in front of him and took a long a swallow as Brody slid into the seat beside him.

"You sure what to be drinking caffeine at this hour," The ninety hour window for the Quaalude effects where just about to wear off. As predicted by Loretta, his body was heading a for big crash, the big sleep, which truth be told her partner desperately needed. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Savannah's death was starting to affect him both mentally and physically.

Chris set the mug back down on the table. "I ain't going to sleep, especially not here."

"You know, that offer to take my couch still stands, whenever you want it"

LaSalle looked up at his partner a slight smile crossing his face. "I already told ya, I'm good."

"Whatever," Brody replied under her breath before taking interest in the file. "You sure you don't remember seeing Petty Officer, Hale before?"

LaSalle shook his head. "Not at all. And for the record, I tend to avoid red heads for the obvious reason."

"Of course," Brody sighed, concluding that it did make sense. Everything about Chris' behavior pointed to avoidance of wanting to deal with his grief. So why would he choose a woman who closely resembled Savannah? It stood to reason that the answer had something to do with the potent barbiturate that had been assaulting his system for close to 4 days now.

"Can I see the picture you were sent again?" she asked, reaching across the table for his phone.

"It's the same one, I have in the bedroom." He looked away, his voice distant.

Brody nodded empathetic as she glanced at the photo and passed the phone back to him. "Well, since you're not interested in sleep, I think I'll get some shuteye. Where can I find linens for your couch?"

Chris stuck out his bottom lip. "Ya, can take the bed if you'd like." Not like he was going to be sleeping in it anytime soon. "Sheets are clean."

Brody made face deciding it best to excuse herself from the now awkward conversation. The sheets were clean because they were the ones that she had put on the bed while Chris was away at Savannah's funeral. She and Pride had organized a crew to clean up the glass and bullet holes that remained from Baitfish's attack. "I think I'll just go brush my teeth and change." She said accidently bumping into the countertop behind her as she got up.

"Awkward moment number 2063," Chris sighed when she was out of earshot, watching her as she reached for her overnight bag and slipped into his master bathroom. He watched the door until the buzz of his cell carried his attention way to an incoming text.

 _You are no Saint, Christopher._

* * *

Ok, LaSalle where ya hiding it?" Merri started to mutter aloud as she looked for the toothpaste. It was in the medicine cabinet she remembered pulling the mirrored door open with the echo shattering glass. A flaming Molotov cocktail sailed through the window nearly missing her head before it shattered on the titled floor, erupting into flames.

"LaSalle!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for the number of reviews on the last chapter. This story is just fun to write.** **As before there is a lot going on in this chapter. Will our heroes unravel the mystery before it unravels them?**

"LaSalle! I can't get out!"

Flames sprinted up the bathroom door, as Brody grabbed a towel from the rack and desperately tried to beat them out. Bright orange flames and black smoke quickly filled the small room, assaulting her nasal passages and lungs as the fire quickly spread, forcing her to abandon her plight and head for the window.

 _Cough_

 _Cough_

Outside, Chris touched the hot door, quickly recoiling his hand. He knew better than to just try and open the door outright but what choice did he have with his partner trapped inside?

"Hold on, I'll get you out!"

Doubling back to the kitchen, he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the laundry room and gave the bathroom door a fierce kick, splintering the wood, praying he hadn't just killed Brody by creating a backdraft. Flames leaped out at him in a fury, forcing him to take a step back. The flames were so hot that he felt his skin burning without even coming into contact with the raging fire.

Inside, he could hear Brody coughing, gasping. The smoke was choking the life out of her.

"Chris, hurry!"

Activating the fire extinguisher, he moved the short hose from side to side creating enough fire retardant foam so that he could step inside. Smoke burned his eyes and mouth as he called out to his partner; secondary flames had now begun to climb the walls.

"Brody!"

 _Cough_

 _Cough_

"Over here!" The agent wheezed, desperate for oxygen as the smoke danced around her lungs, clogging her throat. She was in standing in the bathtub, directly underneath the small window, trying to make the opening big enough to escape.

Chris yanked down the flame retardant portion of the shower curtain, throwing it over her, his hand circling around her waist, helping her step out of the tub.

Ragged coughs emerged as they both gasped for air, running for the door. They had just made it through the jam when a small explosion erupted, throwing them half way across the living room.

LaSalle hit the floor first but quickly recovered pulling Brody back onto her feet, helping her rest of the way outside.

"Ya okay?" he asked looking at her soot covered cheeks, as she gave a series of coughs. He continued to hold her until her coughing jag subsided.

"I'm good, you?" she asked looking up at him with watery eyes from where she hadn't been able to catch her breath.

"Fine," he returned in usual tone as his partner began to glare at him hard.

"We both know that is not true. So let's just agree to stop staying that! Your house is on fire! Someone just tried to kill you! There is nothing fine about it!"

"It's nothin' that hasn't happened before." He shrugged, pleased that she was able to raise her voice. It was a sign that she was going to be ok.

Living in the Quarter, he had gotten quite used to noises and disruptions. It had only been since Savannah's death that they had started to bother him. "An in case yer wondering it's not the first time somethin' like that has come through my window."

Disgusted, Brody shook her head. "It's definitely time you moved."

"Really?" he grinned largely at her as she started to cough again. "Fire, gunshots ripping through the windows and the walls, to tell ya the truth, I'm kind of into the extra excitement."

Though Brody was happy to see the return of his trademark grin she was absolutely infuriated with him. "I mean it, Chris. You can't stay here. It's not safe."

"Got nowhere to go." He returned as the fire department and an ambulance arrived on the scene.

"Oh, yes you do," Brody reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're coming home with me."

Chris pulled his lips into a thin line shaking his head. "You never give up do ya?"

"Not when it's someone I care about, no." Brody smiled up at him, watching his cheeks turn to a rosey shade of red, underneath the black soot that partially covered his face.

"Well, if it's all the same, I think after we're done here I'll head on into the office and start goin' over the evidence again, in case there's anything we missed."

"Suit yourself," she sniffed a bit put off as the EMS workers started to huddle around them, ready to check the agents for smoke inhalation.

Since Savannah's death he constantly pulled away from her. She expected him to treat Percy that way because she was new, but his partner of over a year, the one he shared a common bond of grief? For months now, she had desperately wanted to reach out and tell him about all of the little things that had helped her move on from losing Emily, but every time she tried, he shut her out. She supposed it had something to do with being a male and wanting to deal with his grief by using meaningless sex to deal with the pain, instead of opening up like a rational human being. But like Pride, she knew his methods of trying to deal were only a temporary fix. It bothered greatly that her friend had become so reckless, that his actions had become such that he landed himself in this situation.

* * *

Agent Sonja Percy stood with her hands on her hips watching as firefighters worked to put out the moderate blaze that was LaSalle's home.

"Two major catastrophe's in less than a year? Your insurance adjuster is gonna love you."

"Don't rub it in." LaSalle was sitting on the back bumper of the ambulance occasionally inhaling from an oxygen cannula. For the most part, the paramedics had been satisfied releasing the agent. Not that he would have gone to the hospital had they thought otherwise. That might involve sleeping and remaining idle, and that wasn't something he was willing to do at the moment.

"How's Brody?" he asked looking past the petite, fiery, agent to the second ambulance.

Following his gaze, Percy turned her head so that her female partner was in her line of view. "She's okay, bout the same as you. I think they're a going to take her in though just to be sure. One of the paramedics said something about possible inflammation in her lungs."

LaSalle nodded, staring pensively. Someone had just hurt his friend, his partner, sweet Merri Brody, who had shared her sister's most treasured necklace with him.

"Brody's going to the hospital," Pride appeared beside Percy. "That's exactly where you should be headed."

"I'm fine, King." Right now all he cared about was nailing the bastard who had hurt Brody, and killed Alexandria Hale.

Pride took a step towards his young friend, hoping to get him to see reason. "You have not been fine in a very long time."

"He's right Country Mouse," Percy added. "Ever since that Mermaid of yours passed you've been-"

Eyes, blazing and nostrils flared, LaSalle lit into Percy. "I told ya before, her name is Savannah!"

"Her name _was_ Savannah." Percy countered, pointing a finger as LaSalle lunged forward. "The sooner you accept that, the sooner we call all stop tip-toeing around you!"

"Chris," Pride remanded blocking his best friend of eleven years from going after the sassy and at times caustic agent.

LaSalle gave the senior agent a heated glare, shrugging Pride's hands off of him, legging it toward the fire marshal standing across the street, while Percy stood seething behind the older man.

"I'm tellin' ya Pride he's getting ready to crash and burn. When he does, he's going take all of us down with him."

"No, he won't." Pride averted his eyes, looking down at his newest agent. He had raised LaSalle to be a better agent than that. He knew that somehow, Chris would come through all of this o.k.

"Wish I had the same confidence," Percy sniffed, eyes casting daggers into LaSalle's back as he hopped into his F-150 and sped away from the curb.

Pride looked at her pathetically, before giving her shoulder a squeeze. The new agent still had a lot to learn before she understood the way that _they_ did business. "It's not about confidence, it about years of working together as a family."

Pausing for a moment, Pride closed his eyes constructing his final thought on the matter. "I'm going to say somethin' and I want you to listen. In this family, we don't belittle each other with insults that tear each other down. We work as a team, supportive, caring, we lift each other up. Ya hear me Sonja?"

The former ATF agent, looked down at the ground, it was all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes at her new boss as he stood there staring down at her before going to heading off to the hospital to be with Brody.

* * *

LaSalle parked the truck in front of the office and threw his head against the seatback, concentrating on settling his anger. He was angry, probably angrier than he'd been in a long while, Savannah's death, Percy and the maniac that had used him to murder an innocent woman. It was all starting to weigh down hard on his already battered soul.

He was also physically worn out. The bite marks in his side had started to itch unmercifully, his nasal passages burned from where he had inhaled the heat from the smoke and then there was his head. It felt like it was going to explode again, every muscle ached from sheer exhaustion and the stress of not sleeping. Peeling open his eyes, he looked into the rear view mirror, noting they were still dilated, like before only now they were dilated in a contrast of a highway of red wavy lines that took up what little white space he could see.

He needed to finish this, before it finished it him. But first he needed to deal with the text that he'd been sent.

* * *

"So what have you got for me this time?" Patton Plame quizzed as a haggard looking LaSalle entered the computer specialists man cave, that doubled as the technology lab.

"I got a text right before someone threw a Molotov cocktail through my window." LaSalle passed his phone to Patton hoping that his friend could work some magic.

"Ya think it came from the same person who sent the picture?" Patton asked curious.

"That's what I'm hoping you can find out." Chris pulled up a chair and took a seat next to Patton as the computer whiz connected the phone to USB cord that uploaded everything on the agent's phone to the mainframe. After deleting all of the extraneous information Patton narrowed it down to just the picture of Savannah and the text, placing them side by side on his computer screen.

"This could take a while," Plame said meeting eyes with LaSalle.

Taking the comment as a hint, Chris pulled to his feet. "Ya want anything from the kitchen? I'm gonna make me a sandwich and grab a beer."

"Pastrami on Rye, with light mustard and no onion. My stomach's already rumbling from Pride's sriracha style jambalaya, but then again it could have been that extra side kick of ribs I had. Patton grinned as thousands of numbers began to dance in a rhythmic fashion across the screen. "And I'll take a cold one too."

"You got it," LaSalle shuffled off to the kitchen, and promptly downed a beer before calling to check on Brody. Using his god given charm he conned a nurse in the ER, into telling him that Brody was being treated for minor smoke inhalation but that it looked like she was going to be released. Somehow this should have made him feel better but it didn't.

After making the sandwich, he headed back into Patton's lair, where he found the agent gazing at a blank screen.

LaSalle recognized the look. It was the one that Patton often reflected when he had nothing good to say. "Ya found something?"

Patton let out a long sigh. "My man, you don't want to hear it."

Chris let out a sigh of his own, "Look, whoever it is may have just hurt Brody. Not to mention killed an innocent woman."

Hesitating, Patton pursed his lips what he was about to say was going to tear his friend apart. "The picture and the text came from a number belonging to Savannah Kelly."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I am quite excited about this story and feel the need to get it finished. Hold on to your hats. This chapter packs a powerful punch!**

Chris stood in the middle of his courtyard surveying the report form the fire marshal. Luckily, the fire had mostly been contained to bathroom with some minor damage to the guest bedroom so all in all the house wasn't a total lose. Which was more than he say for his own peace of mind.

The news that the picture and the text had come from a number belonging to Savannah Kelly rocked him to his very core. The idea that someone would actually want to toy with him like that was beyond comprehension. To top everything off, his head was swimming in pain and his stomach was running amuck from what he assumed to be stress over the entire situation.

Thankfully, he had people like Meredith Brody to help keep him focused and grounded.

"How ya feeling?" he asked as his partner came through the wrought iron gate with a more than concerned look.

"Better than you look," Brody quipped, joining LaSalle at the table in the courtyard with two Venti sized coffees in hand. When she heard that about the picture and text, it was all that she could do not to rush over to her partner's side, wanting to swaddle him in comfort.

Chris smiled at her a little, "Seriously, how do you feel?"

"Throat's a little sore from where they performed a bronchoscopy, but other than that…" she shrugged taking careful notice of the dark circles under his eyes. There was also pallor to his face that she hadn't noticed before. It suddenly became obvious to her, that Chris was physically starting to go downhill. Not that this surprised her really, it concerned more than anything. The 90 hour window for the effects of the Quaaludes should have been over by now. He should be feeling better, right?

"I'm sorry you got caught up in all this, Brody."

"Wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't have my partner's back," she quipped, foreshadowing as her hand fell to the middle of his back in a show of support.

"So where'd you sleep last night, LaSalle?"

"I didn't."

"Okaaay. Then who were you with?" She completely expected that the news that the picture and the text had come from a number registered under the name of Savannah Kelly would have completely sent him over the edge, retreating back into the depths of Bourbon Street, seeking a way out.

LaSalle picked up the paper cup and took a long swig. "Believe it or not, no one."

"You mean Mr. Southern charm with the dazzling smile didn't find a pretty girl to drown his sorrows in? I find that hard to believe."

"It's true," LaSalle smiled sadly before lowering his eyes to the table. "Ya know... when I'm with those other women, I never see their faces. I only see…um...you know...her."

There he had shared a little, hoping it would make her back off of wanting to coddle him with her constant offers of support. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her kindness, he did. He just didn't want her pity or anyone else's for that matter.

Brody sighed, her smile fading as two weary and broken looking blue eyes met bright brown ones. "Where are we on your case?" she redirected quickly, knowing that at the moment he'd given her all he could.

"The number that Patton found is registered to a Savannah Kelly, 67, from Knoxville, Tennessee." LaSalle answered tightly. "Reported her phone, stolen three days ago when she accidently laid it down at a Stripes to get a cup of coffee."

"The names a coincidence, which means someone, was probably stalking her for the phone." Brody inferred. Whomever it was, was definitely methodical. The only real lead that they had go off of what that when the text had been sent it had pinged off of a local tower that supported the French Quarter.

"Yup."

"You've got to think back," Brody pressed. "Is there anyone from Savannah's past that would want to get back at you? Maybe an ex-boyfriend, some other family member, a childhood friend?"

LaSalle reached under the Fire Marshall's report and pulled out a yellow legal pad, where he had carefully constructed a list of names from people he remembered attending Savannah's funeral and people in general that she had associated with while they had been dating.

"That's it?" Brody frowned at sparse number of names that now decorated the first few lines of the notepad. "C'mon, you've known Savannah since childhood."

"Since I was in high school and we didn't associate much back then." He corrected filling in the fact that he didn't really get to know her until she had taken over as Cade's case manager at the clinic.

"So, five names then," Brody stated. "Tell me about this first one."

Chris opened his mouth but the sound of his cell quickly interrupted anything he might have wanted to say.

"It's a video call from Percy," he groaned making a face that more that captured Brody's attention. It was his face that said, _I really don't want to talk to this person._

"Did something happen between and you Sonja?"

"We're not on the best of terms right now, is all," LaSalle answered, setting the phone of the table so that Brody could see what the rebel agent to say.

"Agent LaSalle," Percy started off in a more than formal tone, before giving a friendly, cheerful, nod to Brody. " Good Mornin', B"

"What'cha got?" Brody chirped nudging LaSalle as Sebastian also came into view.

"Tall and Nerdy here was able to reconstruct some of the video from the night you were at the Prince of Arms Hotel, shacking up with Petty Officer Hale," Percy tossed out.

Brody could almost see the hackles rising up on the back of LaSalle's neck and quickly placed her hand on his knee giving it a firm _don't you say anything_ squeeze.

"There wasn't any shacking up going on at all." Sebastian interjected, launching into a detailed explanation of how once again it was becoming a common occurrence for videos to be altered. "Alexandria Hale was there but it three days earlier. She was visiting some relatives from out of town."

LaSalle looked at Brody before turning his attention back to the screen. "So someone doctored up the video to make her look like she was with me?" He looked back at Brody as Sebastian began to ramble about some video editing technique Chris had never heard of.

"So, if I wasn't with Petty Office Hale, then who in the hell bit me?"

"That's the answer to the 64,000 dollar question," Brody said softly, before directing her next question to Sebastian.

"Where are we on that DNA sample we took from Chris?"

"Still at the main lab in Baton Rouge, with a state crime rate of every 1 in every 14 people in Louisiana, committing violent crimes the turnaround time is slow."

"Well thanks," Brody sighed as her partner next to her let out a deep seeded growl of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Forcing a smile, Brody gently pulled his hand away from his face. "Why don't we go check out some of those names on your list?" she suggested commanding his attention.

"Ok," he replied suddenly feeling completely worn out beyond measure. He didn't know how much longer he could keep his façade of holding everything together.

Rising to his feet with Brody, he was suddenly overtaken by an overwhelming sense of vertigo and stomach pain that nearly forced him back down into his chair. Eyes closed Chris gripped one of the wrought iron chairs to prevent curling in on himself.

"Chris!" Alarmed, Brody touched his arm. "Chris, look at me."

Hesitant, he started to speak, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say that you are fine!" she threatened, giving him a murderous stare as he opened up his eyes.

"I was gunna say I need a minute. Just got a little stomach cramp from somethin' I ate is all." Working late, with Patton last night the agent had taken to devouring the last of Pride's sriracha style jambalaya in effort to avoid his body's need for sleep at least that was lie he was telling himself at the moment to skirt around the real issue that his body was just plain ready to give out from all of the toxin that he'd recently been exposed to. The side effects from the Quaaludes were really tearing up his system.

Brody continued to look at him with her hardened, concerned glare. What had just happened was more than just a little belly ache. The sheer idea that the man seemed to have such little regard for his own well-being absolutely infuriated her. "Ok, but I'm driving, so hand over your keys."

LaSalle did as he was told, fishing his keys from his pocket, "As long as we can get some antacid somewhere along on the way."

"Not going to help you, LaSalle," she suddenly found herself angry with him as they walked out the courtyard side by side to the truck.

"Why is that?" Chris could tell by the edge in her voice that she had achieved more than her usual level of frustration with him, but he still needed to ask.

But at that particular moment, Brody decided to whirl on him. "Because ever since Savannah died, all you have tried to do is throw yourself over a cliff with the partying, one night stands, it's the reason you're in this mess. You got careless and let someone get to you, steal your badge, and poison you. You could have died in that hotel room and for what? Because you're too afraid to face the pain that the rest of us have to face when someone close to us dies?"

LaSalle's jaw was set, eyes narrowed. "Are ya finished?"

"No, I am not!" Brody retorted, she was almost shaking now she was so angry. "When my sister died, I grieved for her, I almost tore my heart out because it hurt so much, but I talked to people who were close to me, I went to see a therapist, I got help!"

Chris steeled himself, hardening his gaze. "As I recall, you also blew up a boat and got 8 people killed. What did your therapist have to say about that?"

LaSalle heard the crack of her hand long before he felt the sting as her palm connected with the side of his face.

 **A/N: FYI, true statistic, 1 in 14 people in New Orleans have been arrested and served time in the state's prison system.** **Other than that nerdy fact, Oh Shit! Did Brody just slap LaSalle? Did he deserve it? And what is he going to do/say next?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I never thought LaSalle getting slapped would fetch so many reviews. Y'all are amazing, I'm touched really.**

Chris did his best to harden his reaction. In fact, he'd gotten pretty good at not reacting to things since Savannah died. Almost nothing bothered him these days, which he supposed could be due to his lack of having a soul. It had been torn out the moment the he saw Savannah's body lying lifeless on his bedroom floor.

Gauging a shell shocked, Brody he plucked his keys from her hand and circled around to the driver's side of the truck.

"Ya gettin' in or am I runnin' down this list of names by myself?"

"What you said, was wrong," Brody retorted, hopping into the passage seat as he was about to pull away from the curb.

"Meb'be, but it also happens to be true." Purposely, he paused just for the effect. "Just because you talked to a therapist and opened up, doesn't mean that's what I need. I already told ya. I'm dealing with this in my own way."

"And you're doing a stellar job," Brody hissed under her breath. She still thought he needed to find a way healthy way to deal with his grief but LaSalle was stubborn as the day was long he would probably rather die than to open up to anyone about what was going on in that heart of his. She also took into account that Savannah had been a therapist. Though he wouldn't deny the wonders that the woman had done for Cade, when it came to himself it probably just added more insult to injury than anything else to seek help from someone in your dead girlfriend's profession. It must be like rubbing salt into a wound.

Chris flicked his gaze her briefly before heading into the Quarter traffic. It was mid-morning so thankfully it was light. The drive out of the city was silent and for the moment that was ok. It took the edge off of the uncomfortableness of their spat, tiff, whatever you had wanted to call it.

"So, Cecil Gaines, how do you know him?" Brody asked looking at the crumpled yellow paper in her hand.

"Savannah treated his teenage daughter for a meth addiction, a few months before she…" the inevitable lump started to form at the back of his throat forcing him to take a breath. "Cecil wanted to thank her for help in more than friendly way, if ya know what I mean."

Brody raised one eyebrow. "So, you threatened him?"

"Jus tol' him to leave her alone is all." Chris replied, the corners of his mouth twitching as Brody shook her head.

Whatever harsh words had been said earlier were forgotten as he managed to charm her with a slight version of his famous grin.

"Ok, so how do you want to play this?"

"Like we always do, weapons ready."

Weapons ready? They were just going to talk to the man. There was no need to persecute him right off the bat. What if he was innocent? "Ok, now you have me worried."

Chris' grin grew larger as he veered off onto a dirt road and threw the truck into park. "I may have forgotten to mention, that Cecil is the meth dealer who got his daughter hooked."

"Lovely". The thought of asking her partner why Cecil, the meth dealer, wasn't already doing time for supplying his poison to his minor daughter was lost on the sudden appearance of a thin layer of sweat, beading off of LaSalle's brow in time with bright red flushed cheeks.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Brody asked touching his forearm as he reached for the door handle.

He looked at her a bit perplexed. The woman who had just slapped the hell out of him, not thirty minutes ago seemed to be worried because a little fever had sprung up. "I already tol' ya, I'm good."

"At least you didn't say you're fine," Brody snorted softly as she slid out of the passenger's side of the vehicle and reached for her service weapon. Together they moved as partners do, in a quiet procession, using non-verbal expressions and hand signals.

"Cecil Gains!" Chris shouted, before knocking on the door. "NCIS-" He barely got the "S" out when a shotgun blast splintered the door sending both he and Brody into different directions. They circled around the house giving chase behind a well-built Caucasian, man about 6'2 and a couple of skinny bean pole types, wearing surgical type masks, and white coveralls.

Guess there was no doubt as what they had been doing. It was Heisenberg, Louisiana style.

The two agents managed to subdue the two string beans, almost immediately tackling and cuffing them on the ground, but the bigger guy well he was a different story. It had taken the two of them to wrestle him to the ground, only to come to realization that they didn't have an another pair of handcuffs.

Chris sat on the small of the man's back, holding his wrists securely into place while Brody fished a zip tie from the pocket of her vest. Once the man was no longer a threat, they rolled him over and pulled him to a seated position.

Cecil's green eyes grew wide at the sight of Chris, recognizing the agent.

"You been keepin' your word Cecil?" Chris took a moment to swipe his brow with the back of his hand, sweat was pouring off of him now.

"I already tol ya, I ain't going near your girl again and that's the truth. Ain't been near my daughter either. Lucy, she's got a good home now with some nice folks in Baton Rouge, doing well in school. She's been clean since she left that clinic where the pretty red head works, I swear. Ain't been near her either, just been here doin' minding my own business."

"Your own business, huh?" Brody repeated, quickly crossing the man off as suspect and calling the J.P.S.O. Given the fact that Chris was still suspended and that they didn't have a warrant, the duo decided it best to leave the trio for the local authorities.

Brody was still talking to one of the deputy's when she noticed LaSalle hunched over by the truck, his hands resting on his knees. Concern coursed through her as she jogged over to him.

"Chris?"

Automatically, he straightened at the sound of his name revealing his phone in his left hand. "I just got a call from Cade's boss. Seems he's done gone pulled one of his disappearing acts again. I gotta take a ride down to Mobile, see what's goin' on. Would ya mind hitchin' a ride with the good deputy over there?"

Brody frowned. She knew that Cade was important but Chris didn't need this right now. "How about if I drive you?" she asked gazing at the highway of red wavy lines that surrounded his normally bright blue irises. Whether he wanted to admit it, the big crash that Loretta had warned him about was barreling down on top of him. Brody was worried he might not be able to make the 90 minute drive. What if he fell asleep or passed out at the wheel?

This was Cade, his brother. What he had to deal with was a brother thing. "It's nothing I haven't already dealt with a thousand times, he probabl' just went off his meds again. Besides, he'd hate for you to see 'em like that." He paused smiling at her. "Ya know he's got a little crush on ya, right?"

Brody lowered her eyes for moment, trying to hold back the smile that was creeping up on her face. "You LaSalle brothers are incorrigible you know that?" Her face twitched as she looked back up at him. "If you get sleepy call me and I'll talk you through it."

LaSalle's eyes widened slightly. "You actually sound like you care."

"Maybe, I do." She said under her breath as he got into the truck and headed toward the Interstate.

* * *

Pride's cocked his head, crossing his arms over this chest. When Brody had come lumbering into the office without LaSalle in tow, he became concerned. "Let me get this straight, you went to LaSalle's to protect him, the two of you had words, so you slapped him and he took off in the truck?"

The senior agent had most of the story correct, the part of about Cecil, the meth dealer, was really irrelevant. There was no need to anger the man over an unlawful search and detention. "Did I mention he looks like the walking dead?" Brody added. "He nearly fell over."

Pride uncrossed his arms, and started across the room. "And yet you still let him drive off in the truck…"

"Something came up with Cade." She was grasping at the straws as she kicked herself for falling for LaSalle's charm and sickly looking blue eyes. Even when he was ill, his eyes were still as mesmerizing as all get out.

"You should have taken the keys." Pride relented over his shoulder. Cade had been doing well now for the past several months, staying strong in case he needed to take care of his wayward baby brother. While Bi-polar disorder could certainly be unpredictable it didn't make sense to the older man that he would have a relapse at the exact same time Chris was going through a crisis. But then again, in strange twist of fate both brothers had lost the women they loved just days apart. So, Pride stopped questioning the little voice in his head.

"I already tried that." Brody answered starting to feel a bit small. "He took them from me."

"Someone out there is trying to kill him." He returned in his usual placid manner entering the kitchen.

Brody was beginning to see the picture. It didn't matter what she said, Pride was going to side with LaSalle's safety. Her friend was in trouble and she had let him slip out of her sight. "He's on his way to Mobile. He thought it would be better if he dealt with Cade alone." she argued softly as Percy burst into the room with her usual loud tone and brash manner.

"Y'all, tall and lanky's got somethin' for us on the Plasma screen." The DNA sample had finally come back.

 **A/N: Not as exciting as the last chapter, but it moves everyone into position for the climax and we will find out who really is after Chris ;). Sorry for the small cliffy but if I continued it was going to end up that way, regardless. The next chapter will be more suspenseful and revealing. I had just had to move our heroes beyond the slap first.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Quick update for ya. Plus I want to give a shout out to Sarah for leaving me a lovely review. Now onto the start of the big finish. This chapter reveals who is after our grieving boy.**

All eyes were on Sebastian as he launched into a lengthy history about the Baton Rogue DNA lab and it's times to infamous murderers such as Al Capone, Madame Delphine LaLaurie and Lee Harvey Oswald.

"The results please, Sebastian," Loretta's voice echoed in the background.

Sebastian looked off camera for a moment before coming back in a more professional and composed tone. "The person responsible for biting Agent LaSalle is Rachel Davenport, 28, former graduate student at Tulane, dropped out in in 2013 after she was gang raped following a tailgate party on campus. Did 6 months in a residential treatment center and now does volunteer work running a support group for other rape victims at Adult Mental Health Services."

Brody looked at Pride. "That's where-"

"Savannah ran her clinic," Pride finished. "You and Percy go to Davenport's house, see what you can find. I'll head over to the clinic and start talking to people, see if I can't learn a little more about her."

* * *

Percy stood on Rachel Davenport's small front porch questioning what they had gained from the results of the DNA sample as well as LaSalle's rational for being with the woman who had connection to his beloved Mermaid. Davenport had not only been employed at the clinic but she was also a former patient of the dearly departed therapist.

"You know, B, I find it a little strange that LaSalle would become bed buddies with a girl who'd been gang raped. Most women who-"

"Maybe he didn't know," Brody answered quickly.

"Yeah, but someone who works at the Mermaid's clinic?" The former ATF agent knew LaSalle had gone off the rails a bit with what seemed to be an endless string of hook-ups and failed attempts at dating, but even for Percy, Savannah's co-worker was still a stretch. The man was grieving but he wasn't desperate enough to resort to banging one her patients.

"We only know that she bit him." Brody defended knocking again as the younger, agent beside her scoffed.

"It's not like he's a two year old in preschool and was bit on the arm. Underneath the rib cage, that kind of says somethin' She probably bit him in a few other places he's too afraid to mention."

Brody closed her eyes, trying to resist the urge to let into the younger agent as they entered the house, weapons trained. "Look, there are a lot of things that you don't know about Chris."

Percy stopped, grabbing a hold of Brody's arm, "Wait…You have feelings for him," she accused with an almost mocking smile, that matched her seemingly more at times than not insulting personality

"What? No!" Brody's face twisted, jerking her arm free as they continued their way down the hallway and started to clear the house. "He's my partner, my friend."

"Partner with benefits," Sensing it was safe, Percy holstered her weapon.

"He's grieving," Brody replied, before placing her Glock at her back as they started into the Master bedroom where they quickly discovered that Davenport had more than inserted herself into their fellow agent's life or his deceased girlfriend's rather.

"Ah, hell. The girl is a bonafide psychopath," Percy let out looking up at the shrine that Davenport had created for Savannah. Dozens of photo-shopped pictures and accolades of the departed therapist decorated the north wall. "Doesn't LaSalle have this picture on his desk?" Percy pointed to one that had obviously been cropped to look like Davenport's arms were wrapped around Savannah.

Brody leaned in for a closer look. "Yes, and I'm pretty sure that he used to be in it." Panning the wall, Brody found several more photos that she recognized from Chris' phone, all photo-shopped to remove him and include the former grad student.

Percy let out a hiss as she turned her attention to the desk that sat on the opposite wall. "Hey, B, I got some newspaper articles over here about the Mermaid's death along with a medical file on LaSalle's brother." Dozens of notations made by Savannah regarding Cade's treatment had been highlighted

Brody started looking through drawers until she came across a padded manila envelope with a Ziploc bag filled with colorful pills. "Quaaludes," Brody confirmed, pulling out the packing slip. "They were purchased on the Internet and shipped in from Africa. Which is probably why LaSalle is still sick?"

"You think they were cut with something?" Percy questioned, genuinely concerned. It was unusual that something he'd taken four days ago would still be assaulting his system, usually drugs that were laced with poison, acted a little more quickly than that.

"Something slow acting maybe?" It was just a hunch, given Chris' current symptoms. Whatever is was he was suffering from was more than just fatigue brought on by too much partying and not sleeping.

"Dealing with drugs brought in from Africa, you never know what you really get," Percy reflected, drawing on her experience with ATF to come up with a plausible explanation. "I say we drag his ass back here and stick it in the hospital where it belongs."

Brody shook her head. "He won't go for it. Not if there's something going on with Cade." Even when stricken with grief, Cade was the still the most important person in LaSalle's life.

* * *

Chris felt his eyelids growing heavy as he neared the Alabama state line. The last half hour it had become more increasingly difficult to stay awake, forcing him to rely on the 44oz Mountain Dew that sat in the cup holder of the center console for reinforcement. He wasn't a Mountain Dew person by any means, in fact he rather disliked the lemony-lime flavored drink but given the high caffeine count and the fact that the convenience store had been out of his preferred energy drink he made the choice to make due.

Sweat started to trickle down his forehead near the corner of his eye forcing him to take his eyes off the road for a second, causing the truck to swerve slightly

"Shit," he swore softly as the car in the next lane blew a warning and tossed him the finger. Jerking the wheel, Chris corrected quickly and sped up, heart pounding. What had started off as a slight fever was now a raging inferno inside of his head. Thankfully four or five Advil had managed to calm it somewhat, but unfortunately it did nothing for his sleep deprived driving skills.

He pulled over to the side of road, deciding it best to get out and stretch a bit. Maybe the fresh air would do him a bit good he thought when his Bluetooth came to life.

It was Brody. A grin came to his face as he hit the answer button on the steering wheel. "Callin' to check up on me, huh?"

"As a matter of fact I am," she replied softly making certain she was out of earshot of Percy.

"Well don't worry, I haven't run myself off the road yet." He lied with an embarrassed grin spreading across his face. He was sorely regretting that he hadn't taken his partner up on her offer to ride along. Seriously, if he found Cade in one of his manic whacked out states, flying higher than a kite, he didn't know what he was going to do. There was no way his body was physically going to allow him to subdue the larger man or even a kitten for that matter. He was completely wrung out, running off of fumes and caffeine.

He heard Brody make a joke to the effect that he hadn't ended up in a ditch somewhere and tried to envision her bright but soft smile. But the image quickly fleeted when she asked him about Rachel Davenport.

"The name doesn't ring a bell", but then again if he had just hooked up with her for the sake of meaningless sex he usually didn't bother to ask a name.

"I'm sending you her picture now." Brody's voice came back. "Evidently, she had a bit of a girl crush on Savannah; seems like maybe she didn't want you in the picture." Quickly, she explained about the wall of weird and the Quaaludes praying he wouldn't encounter the woman while he was out looking for Cade.

Chris briefly glanced at the photo. There was something that seemed familiar about the girl. "I may have seen her a time or two when I was there to pick up Savannah or dropping off Cade."

"Just keep an eye for her." Brody said softly again watching for Percy.

"Will do," Chris returned, feeling a bit more alert. It didn't make sense to him that someone who had a girl crush on Savannah might crawl into bed with him unless the woman found some sort of sick fascination in sleeping with the man who had been inside her of her intended. But his years with Vice and NCIS told him not to take idea lightly.

* * *

Brody received a start when she turned around to find Sonja standing directly behind her, glaring. "LaSalle doesn't need to worry about the Mermaid's would be lesbian lover. She's dead in the bathtub."

Brody sidestepped the younger agent in disbelief making her way to the master bathroom. Sure enough, Rachel Davenport's newly decaying corpse was naked in bathtub filled with blood red water, her wrists and the femoral artery in her thigh slit. The familiar blank stare of dead eyes, with a carefully placed titled head looked like something out of a movie scene. As far as suicides went Rachel Davenport couldn't have planned hers any more dramatic.

Though, Brody wasn't quite ready to rule it as such just yet all outward signs seemed to point that the young woman may have taken her own life. Previously raped combined with the loss of the woman she identified with and lusted over, it all made sense. Especially if she blamed Chris

Normally, it was Loretta's job to guess the time of death but judging on Brody's experience she estimated it hadn't been long, twenty-four hours at the most.

A slight sense of relief washed over her as they waited for Loretta and her team to arrive.

Given, that they had found Davenport's DNA and the Quaaludes, she hoped that Chris could rest easy in his search for Cade and not have to look over his shoulder in anticipation that someone was out to get him.

* * *

 **Lock Tight Self Storage Rentals**

Inside a standard 25x30 storage unit, Cade LaSalle sat bound and gagged to one of his captor's cherry wood stained dining room chairs. Hands and feet bound with duct tape to the arms and legs of the chair, he couldn't move save for flexing his fingers. All he could do was sit and stare at the large rolling steel door in front of him. Thankfully, however his captor had seen fit to leave the light on so that he could see around the four concrete walls that now seemed to be serving as a would be holding cell.

For the first hour, Cade had tried to scream through the sock that had been shoved into his mouth and then covered with duct tape, but had only succeed in nearly choking himself from the lack of oxygen that his lungs were receiving.

He felt stupid for letting himself be drawn in by someone that he knew, but at the time he had no reason to distrust the person he had built bond with over the last several months.

The worst part was however that he'd been forced to sit there helpless while said captor called Chris luring him into whatever sick and twisted plan had been developed for the unsuspecting agent.

His baby brother was walking into a trap and there wasn't a damn thing Cade LaSalle or anyone else could do about it. Yes, sir, Savannah's father, Peter Kelly had done played the LaSalle brothers and NCIS good he thought silently as the huge steel door opened and Peter appeared with a shifty looking character.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: All right don't say you haven't been warned. Y'all know how I get when the plot twists hit!**

10

Peter Kelly knew the meaning of grief all too well. When Savannah was just 6 years old they had lost her mother to a rare type of breast cancer, leaving him a single father raising a small child alone.

Now going through the stages a second time, he realized what a powerful motivator grief could be. Oh, he tried to tell himself that justice had been done when Chris informed him that the man who had put a bullet into his little girl's chest was dead.

He had also whole heartedly believed that Chris LaSalle genuinely loved his daughter and intended to start a life with her until that fateful night when evil had entered their lives and stolen her from both of them.

Chris LaSalle was a good man, the type that any father would be happy to have his only daughter marry. That was until a month or so back when he'd come to New Orleans on business and had seen the Federal Agent who had gotten his daughter killed, about to fornicate with a woman he'd met at one of the local bars.

Peter would never forget the sense of betrayal he felt towards his daughter's memory when he saw LaSalle outright kissing some blonde only weeks after Savannah had been put into the ground.

From that moment on, he began to look at the events of his daughter's death differently, casting blame on the grieving agent. If LaSalle had been home that night, he would have stopped Savannah's killer from using her to send a message to the younger man's boss. If he hadn't worked for a man who flaunted himself as _King_ of the city then his daughter would still alive. If only Christopher LaSalle had never reentered Savannah's life.

Up until this point, Peter considered himself a benevolent man, a good law abiding citizen who tried to do right by others, but after seeing Chris LaSalle disrespect his only child, and throw away the beautiful love he thought the two of them had, something just snapped.

Cade took in a huge gulp of air filling his lungs as the duct tape and sock were removed from his mouth. When he had a chance to catch his breath, he glanced at Peter.

"Why are ya doin' this?"

Peter leaned over placing his hands on his knees. "Because that brother of yours, the one that asked me to give you job, disrespected my daughter."

Cade's brown eyes narrowed slightly, as he shook his head. "No… Mr. Kelly, ya got it all wrong. Chris, he loved Savannah!

"He has a funny way of showing it." Peter rose to his feet signaling to the scary looking man beside him.

The man nodded back to Peter and then reached into the pocket of his jacket pulling out two vials of medication.

"Ya gotta take these," Peter said, uneasily giving Cade's shoulder a squeeze "its yer medication. You're gonna need it."

Cade looked the older man perplexed before recognizing the brown vials as his own. They kidnapped him in hopes of killing his baby brother and would probably kill him too, yet they were worried about him taking his medication?

Peter looked at the hired mercenary he had found on the Internet, via a shady childhood friend, giving him the okay to give the bound man his medication.

"Open your mouth."

Cade did as he told, knowing that whatever they had in store for he and Chris, he needed to stay lucid. The capsules went down hard, making him cough against the dryness in his throat. "Please don't hurt, Chris." He choked lifting a pair of defeated eyes to his captor. "He's all that I have." That wasn't exactly true, he had his mom and his sister but they didn't hold a candle to his baby brother.

"Savannah was all I had." At the sound of approaching footsteps, Peter turned around. His guest of honor had finally arrived.

* * *

The team stood silent as Loretta's team loaded the body bag carrying Rachel Davenport's body into the back of the coroner's wagon.

"Something on your mind Brody?" Pride noticed the junior agent seemed distant, distracted. She was staring pensively past the coroner's wagon into the street.

Brody blew out a tense breath before turning to her superior. "It's the Quaaludes. It doesn't make sense to me that a 28 year old woman would go to the trouble of purchasing an antiquated recreational party drug that can only be found in Africa just so that she could drug Chris. There are so many other choices right here in the city that are readily available."

Quaaludes were popular in the 70's and 80's so it stood to reason that the person who assaulted Chris would be older and although it appeared that Rachel Davenport had been both meticulous and methodical, in stalking the grieving agent so that she could essentially torment him the brightly colored pills in the bag just didn't seem to add up. There had to be someone else, a partner, pulling her strings.

"Dust the bag and the packing materials for prints," Pride said calmly, "Then send them over to Sebastian and see if there's anything in them that could be making LaSalle sick. In the meantime, I'm gonna take a ride up to Alabama and see if I can't catch up with Chris. "

Brody's mouth twitched slightly. "I'm coming with you."

* * *

"What the hell's going on here, Peter?" Chris pulled his weapon at the sight of Mercenary Mike holding a gun to Cade's head. Obviously, LaSalle knew to some degree just by looking at the key player, that the man had obviously suffered some sort of psychotic break.

He thought his own grief and actions were just about the worst thing anyone could be driven to but obviously judging by the look on Peter Kelly's face he was wrong. Disbelief toyed with his mind, Savannah's father was a good person, _her dad_ the man responsible for bringing such a good, kind soul, the love of his life, into this world was holding a gun to his brother head? He almost couldn't comprehend it but yet here they were.

"Put the gun down, Chris and I promise you no harm will come to Cade," Peter said, calmly shoving his hands into his pockets as sign of good faith.

For a split second, Chris thought about trying to take out Mercenary Mike and then Peter, but underneath the material of Peter's jacket, Chris could see the outline of a gun. From what Savannah had told him about the man, he was a hunter, so he knew how to use a gun.

What if he wasn't fast enough and Peter managed to get a shot off at him or worse, Cade? He couldn't take the risk. Placing one hand in the air, Chris lowered his weapon, setting it on the ground before kicking it away and putting the opposite hand up.

He flicked his gaze to Cade, missing the subtle nod Peter had given Mercenary Mike to lower his weapon.

"Ya, still ain't tol' me what this all about." Chris growled, when the weapon was removed from Cade's head and subsequently pointed at him.

Against his will Peter Kelly's voice started to betray him, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I saw you, disrespecting my daughter. You told me when Savannah was killed that you loved her."

 _Still do._ Chris lowered his eyes to the concrete, he didn't know what Peter Kelly had seen, but he could guess. The rest of Peter's accusatory words fell on deaf ears as Chris' own thoughts of his betrayal of Savannah filled his ears.

"So what's this got to do with Cade?" He asked suddenly his head snapped up, willing the unwanted, self-loathing thoughts away.

"You have my word that when this is over, Cade will be released unharmed to your boss, Dwayne Pride" Despite the body count it had taken to get Chris here, there was something about Cade LaSalle that Peter Kelly genuinely liked, making him see the older LaSalle brother as an innocent.

Chris heard Cade make a soft, emotional protest and glanced at him briefly before giving Peter a consensual nod, hoping that his willingness to cooperate would take their focus off of his older brother. "All right then do what ya gotta do."

"Turn around," Mercenary Mike growled, "Put your hands on your head."

"Chris! No!" Cade let out a desperate plea as his baby brother turned his back on him.

Closing his eyes, Chris held his breath thinking that they were going to shoot him in front of Cade. God he hoped not, with Cade's already fragile state of mind there was no way he would ever recover.

He waited for the sensation of barrel being pressed against the side of his head, but it never came. Instead, he was met with agonizing pain of the butt of the gun as it came down on his skull, sending his entire world into darkness.

* * *

If God was to take any pity Chris LaSalle's soul, he would never wake up and have to live through what was about to happen him.

Peter Kelly, a simple man with just a high school diploma, had planned everything brilliantly, down to the last detail: right down to exhuming his own dead daughter's coffin.

If Chris LaSalle loved her so damn much then he could spend eternity in the ground beneath her rotting corpse, as punishment for betraying the beautiful memory of what a loving and deserving person she had been.

Peter had made sure that the specificity was such that two coffins could be placed one on top of the other, like they did with spouses who wanted to be buried together in Military cemeteries.

For LaSalle, he had constructed a simple rectangular box that he and Mercenary Mike where now nailing shut with the semi-conscious agent inside. He'd chosen the rectangular shape so that the concrete vault that Savannah's coffin was entombed in would sit perfectly on top, eventually crushing the thin wood underneath as the Earth settled.

He'd even paid the best landscaper he could find to make certain that the turf looked as if it had never been disturbed, raking the soil flat and placing a new piece of grassy filled sod on top.

When all was said and done, Peter reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a fat envelope for Mercenary Mike. "You can go now." He said, "I'd prefer to do this last part on my own."

Mike nodded, quickly turning on one heel before jogging away.

When he was certain that Mike was out of sight, Peter knelt at Savannah's monument, running a finger through the beveled letters of her name. "I'm sorry baby girl, this is only way to end the pain…for all of us."

Rising to his feet, Peter slipped his hand to the small of his back and pulled out his 22, placing it underneath his chin, pulling the trigger.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry to keep you all waiting on LaSalle's fate. It's been a crazy long week and so little time to write, but here we go!**

 **A/N II: Partial credit for this chapter goes to COL for helping me flesh out LaSalle's emotions and reactions.**

LaSalle was jerked awake by the rousing chorus to _Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison,_ as it sang out loudly in the pitch black adding another pulsing layer to the pain in his head. Instinctively he reached for his singing phone, knowing by the specific ringtone that it was Meredith Brody calling. But he couldn't quite move his arm, bumping his elbow against the same unyielding surface that had smacked him in the forehead. This wasn't good. This really wasn't good.

He felt around the sides as best he could encountering, tiny shards, splinters that dug into his skin, like miniscule needles reminding him of the numerous times he and Cade had climbed the neighbor's rough unfinished fence for a chance to go swimming in the Wilson's fancy built in pool. He'd been terrified whenever he reached the top, took all of Cade's coaxing to get him to jump down. But he'd trade that irrational fear of heights any day for the one that had begun to twist his stomach and grip his heart with icy fingers.

This fear was entirely rational, because -fuck- he couldn't move but a few inches in the pervasive black, couldn't see, could only feel its limits. Pulling his knee up, it bumped a hard surface. Wriggling, his shoulders hit the sides. He could barely maneuver his arms in the confining space, the confining space boxed in by rough wooden planks. He was trapped, trapped and blind and alone.

But not alone.

Shit. He'd listened to the ringtone often enough to know when it was winding down, reaching its last attempt at getting his attention, fading into a whisper. He fumbled desperately to find his pants pocket. Where the fuck was it?

/Shitshitshitshitshit.../ He scrambled about, which turned into full-fledged frustrated thrashing as he failed to feel the smooth plastic of the device's casing beneath his fingertips, failed to feel the rigid corner poke him in the arm or the thigh.

Where the hell was it?! For god's sake. Help! HELP!

It went silent, leaving him all alone in the oppressive black. The narrow space that could only be described as a 'pine box'. A coffin; the coffin, he was going to die in if he didn't find that phone. He rooted around for several more seconds until he felt the indestructible casing of his Otter Box come into contact with the tip of his middle finger. Damn it was just out of his reach.

Dropping his right shoulder, he strained as he inched his way down the rough pine until an exposed nail caught the sleeve of his shirt, ripping into his bicep. Chris hissed softly, squeezing his eyes shut until his fingers wrapped around the case of his phone. Success! Well, a meager victory given his current situation.

Sparse light from the phone lit up the small confined space just enough to confirm the horror of his reality. Placing his phone on his chest, he pressed his palms flesh to the planks above his head and pushed, straining until his wrists and shoulders ached. A scream a ripped from his lungs as absolute terror engulfed him. There was no way out of this.

Turning his head, he felt his cheek connect with something familiar; cold steel, that he recognized as his P229. He wasn't certain why he hadn't noticed it before other than the thrashing must have brought it into his reach.

Squirming, Chris managed to maneuver the weapon into his right hand, curling his fingers around the grip. Sealing his left hand over the top of the right he pressed the muzzle into the top of the wood directly above his chest and fired, for all that it was worth, the flash lighting up the coffin. It was stupid to fire the gun in such close proximity to his face but getting burned by the back-flash was the least of his worries at the moment.

Using his index finger, he poked it through the hole the bullet had made immediately coming into contact with a hot lump, dashing his hopes that the bullet would have gone straight through, leaving a trace of light and an opening for oxygen.

Keeping his hand wrapped around the weapon, he let it rest at his side, content on putting his energy into the loud ringing in his ears, left behind from the discharge of the gun. For several minutes, he laid there breathing hard, as his heart slammed up against the wall of his chest, in his bodies response to fight or flight, neither of which would do him any good at the moment. So, he waited for rational thought to return but with rational thought came the sickening feeling that he was trapped, in a pine box, waiting to die.

Deep breaths, he tried to coax himself in order not to succumb to the panic again. He couldn't afford to throw another tantrum as he decided to call it.

When he finally calmed, he remembered the phone and that Brody had called him. As ridiculous as it sounded, he had cell service, even trapped in said coffin he had cell service. God, how he wanted to kiss the man who had invented fiber optics right about now, steeling himself, he hit the redial and prayed that Brody would answer quickly.

His heart practically leaped out of his chest at the sound of her sweet voice.

"Chris, where are you? Pride and I just pulled into Mobile."

LaSalle looked around his rectangular tomb, before deciding on how to best answer that question. Although his situation was more than dire so was Cade's. He would never forgive himself if he left this world, knowing he hadn't done everything he could to save his older brother. "Don't really matter right now, I need ya to do somethin' for me."

"Are you in trouble, Chris?" Damn it, she'd picked up on the strain in his voice. Not that he could have held it back if he had tried, but still. He needed her to focus on Cade.

Closing his eyes, he swallowed back the massive lump in his throat, "It's Cade, I need ya to go to Lock Tight Storage on Mathers Way. He's in Unit 234 on the second level. Ya also gotta be on the lookout for Savannah's dad and another guy-"

"Wait, Savannah's dad?" Brody cut him off. "Chris, we just got a call from the local PD, Savannah's father is dead. He shot himself."

 _Shit!_

LaSalle took a moment to look at his gun before laying it back down. One of maybe two people, he knew for certain could confirm his whereabouts was dead. Where did that leave him?

 _Dead_

"Just find, Cade. Make sure he's safe," he replied trying to keep his voice even and light before ending the call. He knew Brody would be pissed at him for hanging up on her, but he just couldn't handle talking to her until he knew that Cade was safe. As it was his phone was only operating on about third-quarters of a battery right now and who knew how long he might needed it to last. With Peter Kelly out of the picture, that meant that the team would have to go after his accomplice and that could take...

 _More time than what you have, Christopher._

Ironically, the little voice LaSalle had just heard in his head sounded just like Pride. Not that this surprised him really as there were often times when he was out of sorts about something that he would recall some infinite words of his surrogate father, to give him just the right answer to a dire situation. But not this time. This time he knew that he had stepped in it too deep for even Pride to pull him out.

He went back to the concept of time. How much time did he have really? Gauging from what he knew about these situations, both fictional and reality, he probably only had a couple of hours worth of oxygen before his brain cells started dying off and he suffocated. A couple of hours, if that. His heart was still racing, and to top it off he felt like the was going to hyperventilate. The stress of the situation was choking the life out him, literally. Next to being afraid of heights and stinging insects, he hated being alone. For a fun-people-loving person, such as himself, solitary confinement, locked in box, was just about the worst way he could think of when it came to dying.

* * *

Brody leaned up against the wall to one storage units and called Chris to tell him that they had found Cade shaken but relatively unscathed. She had listened to the older LaSalle's story as far as Chris giving himself up, and knew that her partner needed immediate rescuing.

"Ok, no more playing the sacrificial hero. I know you're in trouble so give me something that will tell me where we can find you." She pleaded, fearful as to whatever situation he had been dragged into by Savannah's father and his hired henchman. She'd heard something in LaSalle's voice earlier that told her something was horribly wrong, but she hadn't acted on due to partner's unwavering devotion toward his sibling.

"More trouble than ya know. I just need ta make sure Cade, cause ya know how he gets-" he quavered, earning her immediate concern. The fear in his voice palpable. Something was horribly wrong for him to sound this afraid, terrified. There were times when they were in questionable situations as to whether or not they were going to live and he showed her anxiety but this was out right pure unadulterated _no way out of this_ fear in his voice.

"I already told you, Cade is fine, so please-." For several seconds, she listened to nothing but the sounds of his labored, panicked, breathing. "Chris?"

"I'm trapped," he finally hiccupped, unable to get the rest of the words out.

"Trapped, where?" Her heart was pounding now. "Chris, just tell me what you see."

"Nuthin...just dark,'" his voice came back, so broken, that turned the muscles in her legs to Jell-O, sending her slowly sliding down the wall she had been leaning against as he began to describe the specifics of his coffin. She was now sitting on flat on the concrete with her knees drawn up in effort to stop her stomach from lurching.

"Listen to me." she commanded, praying her voice didn't crack. Chris was losing it and she would be of zero use to him if she did as well. She knew it sounded cliché but she couldn't help but promise that they would find him even though at the moment she had no idea of where to look.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: OK, lots of head hopping in this chapter, trying to capture everyone's perspective of what is happening to LaSalle. As usual, thank you to COL for the chats and discussion, that have made this story what it is and thank to you to my new followers.**

 **Chapter 12: Gone in Ninety Minutes.**

"Sonja, just got a lead on the guy that Cade identified, as Mercenary Mike," Brody told Pride. "She's running it down now."

"Good," Pride answered, as his cell phone came to life with Sebastian's name scrolling across the screen. It was a shot in the dark but he had asked the forensic scientist to take a look at the composition and specifics of the box that LaSalle had been entombed in, hoping that it would give them something to go on, a clue, a detail. Anything at this point would prove helpful. "What do you have for us, Sebastian?"

* * *

When Brody and Pride's worried faces popped up on his computer screen, Sebastian let out a shuddering breath, "I wish I had good news. Based on Agent LaSalle's height and weight and the projected dimensions of the box, the best estimation of his…"

The loveable lab geek could barely get the words out. How could he tell them that their friend, the man they all loved, was more than likely going to suffocate before they even had a chance to get their investigation off of the ground?

Loretta stepped up behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders. "Just tell them." She prompted softly.

His soft eyes dropped to the floor as he swallowed back the idea he was never going to see LaSalle again, his friend, who occasionally, invited him to hang with the guys, instead of treating him like the intelligent outcast that most perceived him "Ninety Minutes," he choked, turning into Loretta.

"Keep us posted," she said as she wrapped her arms about the crumbling man-child.

* * *

Pride ended the call, sharing a more than concerned look with Brody. He (they) had less than two hours to find, his best friend, the man he thought of as a son. Less than two hours to not only track down his location but to rescue him from a suffocating tomb. The King of New Orleans had been in time sensitive situations before but nothing like this, nothing that said, he was in jeopardy of losing one of his own.

* * *

Brody turned away from the senior agent. "So, Chris will run out of air in ninety minutes…"

 _/Fuck! Shit/_ She wanted to kick something. She wanted to fall down on her knees and scream, but instead she held the storm of emotions inside. If she were the one missing, trapped and running out of air, her partner, the man she recently slapped in the face for pointing out the truth would give everything he had to bring her back. Why had she let her frustration with his unconventional ways of handling his grief come to a physical altercation on her part? If he died without her being able to-

She pushed the thought from her mind, turning to face Pride. "What do we do?"

The senior agent already had his phone in hand trying to reach Plame. If there were a technological way to find LaSalle, Patton Plame would be the one to do it.

"Call Christopher. I'm going to see if Pat, can track his cell."

Brody nodded pulling out her own mobile device, her heart slamming up against her chest as she hit the redial.

 _/Please answer/_

She chewed on her lip as it rang again, and again. Why was it taking him so long to pick up? What if his big crash had finally come and he'd fallen asleep? Worse what if Sebastian's calculations were wrong and he was already struggling for air, choking miserably to a horrible death through suffocation?

On LaSalle's end the phone only rang once. This time he was smart enough to have left it resting on his chest so when the ringtone started to play, he was able to answer it quickly, with just a swipe of his thumb.

"Brody." The sound of his voice brought a calming effect to her frantic heart.

"Don't say anything." She swallowed. "You need to save your oxygen. I'm going to talk to you, but I only want you to answer in single words: yes, no, and short phrases. You got that?"

"Yes."

She would forego telling him exactly how many minutes he had left, though she was sure that he was already well aware. "Pride is talking to Patton. He's trying to track your phone."

"Ok."

Even with the best that technology had to offer, it would still take at least 15 minutes and even then it might only be to the closest cell tower.

"Cade is safe and he knows nothing about what is happening to you, other than you were taken. We had the local PD take him to the therapist that is currently handling his treatment. She has strict orders not to let him come into anything contact that might tip him off that Savannah's father is dead. No social media, no phone, no television."

"Good."

Brody glanced at Pride, her eyes pleading. It had only been a couple of minutes, not enough time for Patton to have come up with a location. Averting her gaze, she went back to Chris.

"So… How are you feeling? Are you good?" Immediately, she realized that was a stupid thing to say. Of course he wasn't good! Even though he wasn't saying anything, the man was literally freaking out. He was locked in a pine coffin, unable to move without hitting something.

"Uh…"

"Let me rephrase that," she recanted quickly. "How's your head?"

"Hurts like hell. Savannah's dad clocked me a good un."

"Too many words," she scolded gently before taking in a breath and exhaling slowly. Her own anxiety was starting to bare down on her, making her feel like her entire world was about to implode. She needed Patton to come up with a location.

"Think about the things you heard and saw before you were put in the box. Is there anything that stands out?" Again she looked at Pride while LaSalle processed his thought.

"Nothing yet," the older agent mouthed.

Brody closed her eyes, moving away as if she were about to engage in a private conversation with her partner.

"Chris?"

"I was in and out for a while, but I thought I heard tappin, maybe hammerinnnn-'. His voice rose an octave, anxiety controlling the pitch of his voice. "Oh shit! No…No….Shit!"

Brody stepped back over to Pride, placing the phone on speaker. "Chris, what's happening?" They could hear their friend as he started thrashing, about in his small, confined, space, panicked noises climbing out of the back of his throat.

"Chris, answer me, please. We need to know what's happening to you!"

* * *

LaSalle's voice froze in fear as a string of cockroaches started to crawl through the small hole that had been left behind by the discharge of his service weapon.

Normally, he didn't have a problem with the appearance of the creepy, crawly, insects but that was then they were in close proximity of his shoe and the solid weight of his foot bearing down upon them. Being trapped in a small space in which he could barely move brought an entirely different dynamic to the idea of their impromptu invasion.

Brody and Pride's shouts were oblivious to his ears as he squirmed about desperately trying to escape the small army. There five, no six, he counted hunching to his right as they went left, not that he had much room to move around- he didn't, barely any, but that didn't seem to matter at this particular moment. In seconds they were going to be on him!

 _/Think, think, think, Damn it!/._ The idea of seriously using the gun on himself entered his mind, as they crawled across the top of his coffin and started down the left side. Using the light from the phone to track their movement, Chris waited until they were in a good position, made fist and repeatedly, squashed the little bastards, until they were nothing but green and yellow, splatter against the side of the pine structure that was holding him captive.

His erratic breathing and wild heartbeat continued long after the roaches were gone. It took him a good 3-4 minutes before rational comprehension returned, allowing him to hear the urgent pleas of his friends. He flung his hand forward, shaking it, before rubbing it against the side of the wood to remove the remains of the roaches from his skin as he spoke.

"I'm good; but in case you're wondering, I'm not alone in here."

* * *

"What?" Brody's large eyes widened, looking at Pride. He wasn't alone? What the hell?"

"Got roaches coming in from the bullet hole."

"What bullet hole?" Now it was Brody turn to sound frantic.

"The one I put in the top of this casket."

"Wait a minute. You have a GUN?" Why would Peter Kelly have allowed Chris to keep his gun?

"Yeah," LaSalle went quiet for a moment before letting out a sigh of defeat. "I think Peter left it for me, in case I decided ta-"

Pride touched Brody's shoulder, dipping his head before looking back up heavenward and offering up a small silent prayer. "It's not going to come to that Christopher. We're going to get you out there. Ya hear me?"

I hear ya, King but could ya make it sooner than later? I'm becomin' uh little claustrophobic." Truth was it was getting a little warm in his snug surroundings. A warm environment meant that he was beginning to run out of air.

"Chris, you need to try to stay calm," Brody said taking the phone back from Pride. Who knew how much oxygen he had used up over his so called _panic attack_ over the roaches? "How's the bite mark in your side?" she asked, trying not focus on the horror of the situation.

"Infected, I think." He yawned before becoming quite again.

"Are you tired, Chris?" Brody asked thinking that if he could somehow managed to fall asleep, it might stabilize his breathing and conserve precious oxygen, buying them more time.

"Bored," he answered not really wanting to tell her he was scared shitless.

"That big crash, you've been avoiding. Why don't you let it hit you." She said, her heart twisting in her chest as she thought of what seemed to be the inevitable ending to this sick scenario. "Let it hit you full force, and then when you wake up you can tell me how you concurred the big bad roaches."

* * *

LaSalle laughed bitterly. Even if he wanted to sleep he couldn't. His adrenaline level was through the roof. The big crash, which Brody was referring to would have to wait until this was over or he was dead, whichever came first.

"I can't," he said lowly as the ground around him began to rumble igniting his senses. He looked up as dirt started to seep in from the bullet hole, Fuck! He should have known, the roaches weren't coming in for the hell of it, they were coming in for a reason.

He tried not to panic, as the rumbling turned into a shaking, a tremor of sorts. An Earthquake? Small Earthquakes were fairly common in the Tuscaloosa region of Alabama. They'd had thirty nine, just this year, where as they were less frequent in Mobile, but they did happen.

Raising his hand, he touched the top of the box. It was definitely shaking. An Earthquake, wonderful. If they were anything like the ones he remembered as kid, then the ground would rumble for a bit, (usually less than a minute) and it would stop, leaving an ominous wake of fear behind, maybe a little damage here and there but more than likely not. They'd never had a big one in Mobile so to speak and he prayed that this would not be the first.

"Brody is the ground shaking where you are?" he asked as one of the planks above his head started to give and crack. "Brody? Brody!" Before his partner could answer, the weakened board slipped forcing him to put his hands up to avoid being hit on the head. The box was caving in. THE BOX WAS CAVING IN!

Help!

King!

Brody!

ANYBODY!

 **A/N: Yikes! Our poor Bama Boy just can't catch a break!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: A pre-turkey day treat (for those who celebrate). The majority of this chapter is told through Brody's POV but when you get to the end, you'll see why.**

Chris strained, against the bowing wood desperately trying to push it back into place. The concrete vault that held Savannah's coffin was threatening to come right through his meager tomb. Though he didn't quite know what it was he knew that it was heavy enough that it would probably crush his skull like a watermelon fight on the Fourth of July.

The wood on the side of the box began to pop and creak against the opposing force of solid rock like mass. The plank furthest to the right on the cap, snapped, winging his right shoulder and the side of his face, dangerously close to his eye. If all that he lost through his harrowing experience was his eyesight he would consider himself lucky. Sliding his hand over, he felt the rough abrasive concrete against the skin on his fingertips and palm.

 _Oh God! It really was a huge block of concrete that was about to collapse on top of him!_

For the most part the shaking had stopped, but Chris hardly noticed, he was too busy praying that wouldn't be suddenly reunited with the former love of his life. Though he was still deeply in love with Savannah (or the memory of her) he wasn't looking to reconcile with her anytime soon.

He was trembling, violently now, every muscle in body literally shaking, pushed beyond its limit. It was stupid to think that he could prevent a huge block of concrete from falling on him but he would be damned if he was just going to give into it. It was better to go out a fighter than to accept an unjust fate.

Somewhere in the mayhem, the phone slipped from his chest and was resting at his side. He could hear Brody calling out in futile effort to find out what was going on. She made some flippant comment about more roaches and how many of them were there this time? To say that she was mocking him was really unfair when she'd only been trying to keep him calm so that he would conserve his oxygen.

Twisting his head his eyes landed on his weapon. Maybe it was time to consider-. Growing up in a strict Southern Baptist home he would surly go to hell for even entertaining the idea, but what difference did it make? He was probably already headed there or at least that's what his father had always told him. Doubtless, it seemed that no matter where he ended up that he was destined to die here.

* * *

"What? Earthquake?"

"LaSalle!"

"LaSALLE!"

What the hell was going on? The Earth wasn't shaking here.

Gut wrenching terror filled Brody's soul as she listened to her partner's frantic pleas for help. Mixed in with Chris' shouts she could hear the sound of the splintering, cracking wood, planks collapsing. Fuck whatever air he had left the man was being crushed alive! But by what?

He was almost screaming now, taking in long, panicked, breaths of air, with whimpering mews and grunts of pain mixed in between.

In her mind, she envisioned all sorts of scenarios. LaSalle could be in a scrapyard, where old junk cars went to die, routinely crushed, and squashed like rumpled aluminum cans. He could be trapped in a demolished building with the walls collapsing around him, any number of things, really.

Then there was nothing. Ominous silence filled her as the line went dead. Had his phone died? Crushed in whatever horrifying fate he'd been dealt? Even though the connection had been lost, she continued to shout out his name, in sheer desperation. How could she save him if she could no longer communicate?

"CHRIS!"

Her own pleading eyes looked at Pride. The grey-haired agent was as white as a sheet, his face reflecting the look of a man who had just lost his own child, his only son. No words were needed as she read the obvious pain clouding his usually lively, soulful eyes.

"He's gone, the phone died," Brody said almost mechanically as she inwardly started to curse Patton Plame. The man was a technological whiz and master of the dark web, how hard was it for him to come up with a location for a damn cell phone signal? They had a GPS locator on LaSalle's phone. It should have been instantaneous, right?

"The best Patton can do is the closest cell phone tower." Pride said sickly, "He's thinks there's some sort of interference blocking part of the signal."

"Cell phone tower," Brody repeated, angrily. The average cell phone tower could reach a span of 20 miles. Twenty fucking miles in any direction! Her partner, her friend was dying and the best they had was circle that spanned 20 miles? This was unacceptable, no it was unfathomable, a wild goose chase at best.

Blinking away threatening tears, Brody blew out a tense breath. "The last thing Chris said before we were cut off was that he thought there was an Earthquake, the ground was rumbling, the box was shaking." She wouldn't recap the idea that it sounded like the box was caving in on him, but she gathered by the look on Pride's face that he already knew.

An Earthquake here? Pride couldn't rationalize the idea. If they were within twenty miles of LaSalle they should have felt it, but to be certain, he would check back with Patton.

"We need to keep working the case." He returned as if he were trying to stave off the heartbreaking emotion that threatened to consume and break him into little pieces.

Brody swallowed back the rock in her throat. So that was it? Chris, the man Pride claimed to love like a son was now a case? A case meant that instead of having just precious minutes to find their friend that they now had what? Days? Weeks? Cases weren't solved quickly. A case meant they probably had a dead body on their hands, instead of a vibrant, young man in need of rescuing.

It never occurred to her that the Senior Agent might be in shock as she tried to marshal her frustration. Chris LaSalle was not a case! He was her-. Her- Her family and god willing always would be. They would find him alive, she reasoned, trying to convince herself more than the man standing beside her.

Calmly, she looked to her leader, her boss, "So back to my original question. Where do we start?"

"With Peter Kelly," Pride answered with conviction.

Retreating to the Explorer they rode in silence to the local morgue. A couple of times, Brody tried to reach Chris through the blue tooth in the SUV but it was hopeless, as the call diverted to his voice mail.

* * *

"N.C.I.S. I'm Agent Pride, this here's Agent Brody. We called about Peter Kelly."

The elderly looking medical examiner carefully inspected the duo through thick Coke bottle style glasses. He was a short, little man, all of 5'1 and he'd been working at the Mobile coroner's office for more than fifty years. It was a rare occasion when someone like Dwayne "King" Pride showed up in his place of employment, his palace of hidden discoveries.

"I was just about to go to work on Mr. Kelly." he said, meekly.

Pride and Brody watched curiously as he walked them over to the exam table and hopped up onto a stepstool. "I'll do a routine autopsy just to rule out anything suspicious, but the case really seems to be cut and dry. The man appears to have shot himself, death by his own hand, according to the witnesses."

"Witnesses?" Brody and Pride said in unison.

"A Mother and young daughter were just coming up on the gravesite when they heard the gun go off."

"GRAVE SITE?" Pride's eyes went wide. The officer from Mobile PD who had called neglected to supply that crucial tidbit of information.

"Yes, Mr. Kelly was found at his daughter's grave," the kindly old man supplied. "Such a shame."

"The cemetery!" Brody touched Pride's arm before taking off in dead run for the car. How could they have been so stupid and missed that? Of course the cemetery was all the way across town, only five miles from where they had started at the storage facility where they had found Cade. Five miles, so close yet they hadn't had a clue. LaSalle had been right under their noses the entire time.

"Jesus Christ!" Pride swore as he recklessly pulled the SUV from the parking lot. Everything seemed to be working against them. Lights flashing and sirens blaring he exceeded even what was considered to be safe _in pursuit_ speed limits in a desperate race to get to his young friend.

* * *

The car rumbled, almost vibrating as Pride drove over the graveled paths through the cemetery.

"Savannah is buried on the northwest side," Brody said, anxiety rising, in her voice. "Lot 57B"

"You don't think, Kelly-" Pride threw the car into park, unable to finish his thought. The idea was just too incomprehensible.

"Buried Chris, alive." That bastard, Brody cursed under her breath as she jumped out of the car and took off in a dead run. Luckily, Pride had been able to park within 50 feet of the gravesite. It was just around the corner in a clearing of large oak trees. Savannah's tombstone was in sight but as they neared they could see that the yellow police tape had been tossed aside with the ground in upheaval, her vault sitting undisturbed on the grass in plain sight.

Just beyond the mass of the perfectly rectangular shaped concrete, sat the pine coffin. The cap had been completely torn off, discarded a few feet away in the grass. Some of the boards on the side were cracked and missing. Breathing hard, both agents fell to their knees, feeling like they had just been punched in the gut. Merri Brody especially felt like she was going to throw up.

Chris' gun and phone were lying in the bottom of what remained of the deadly handmade tomb.

But no Chris.

Pride quickly pulled on a pair of gloves and reached into the box for the gun. "It's still warm," he told Brody. "Two shots missin.'"

"Two?" She knew that Chris had fired one, he'd told them that. But why would he have needed to fire a second?

Pensively, Brody panned the immediate area around them, her eyes landing on the end corner of Savannah's concrete vault, the same vault that had threatened to crush her partner she assumed. Red streaks, familiar splatter dotted the lower side, the grass nearly hiding it from view. "I've got blood."

 **A/N: And the mystery continues! I blame C.O.L for the cliffhanger ending. So what has happened to our boy? Dead? Did he wander off? Rescued? Shot? Whose blood is that?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Ok after two big cliffhangers, this chapter will provide some answers or will it? Credit goes to C.O.L for helping me flesh out the details.**

Merri Brody sat at her desk, her face buried in her hands. Two days had passed since she and Pride had found Savannah's unearthed coffin with blood splattered on the side of the concrete vault and still no Chris.

They'd put out a BOLO and searched the local hospitals and morgues and came up with nothing. Even with a BOLO in place and an alert for hospitals to contact them should a "John Doe" turn up medical personnel could still easy miss him in their shuffle of paperwork.

They had been over every shred of evidence ten times over. Thankfully the blood they had found at the scene, wasn't LaSalle's. It belonged to former inmate by the name of Michael Higgins (AKA Mercenary Mike). His cold, dead, lifeless, body was lying just a few feet away on the other side of vault.

Speculation and two rounds missing from the magazine of his P229, all pointed to the Chris as the shooter. But questions remained. Why had the hired killer come back to the scene when for all practical purposes his victim was as good as dead. Change of heart maybe? If so, where was Chris?

Her head snapped up. He couldn't have just walked away and even if he were able, he would have found a way to reach out to them by now. No, there was something seriously wrong. Another player in this sick game maybe?

"Why can't we find him?"

"We're missin' somethin'," Pride came in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand, desperately needing the caffeine. The lack of sleep and of stress over trying to find Chris was wearing on his very soul, emotionally and physically draining him.

"Take Percy, run back down to Mobile. Maybe having a fresh set of eyes will see something you and I missed."

His expression changed, a curious smile springing to his lips, as two middle aged men entered the bullpen, one a tall thin business man, evident by a suit and the other a scraggly looking, dressed in jeans and a cowboy style shirt.

"Can I help ya?"

The man in the suit stepped forward. "Are you agent Pride?"

"I am," Pride listened carefully as the man began to begin to speak with a clear Southern accent, which could rival Christopher's.

"Agent Pride, my name is Michael Carlise, I'm the President of the Mobile Cemetery Association and this here is our caretaker, Russell Mathers." The man in the suit nudged his caretaker friend causing the man to shrink slightly in fear.

"Give it to him." Carlise ordered his grey eyes widening slightly.

Mathers looked back at his employer an uncertain look on his face, swallowed hard before fishing in his pocket and retrieving a black billfold that Pride instantly recognized. He had one just like it that held his NCIS credentials.

"The credentials in there, they say LaSalle?" he asked as Mathers handed it to him with a nod.

"A few days ago, a man paid me $500,000 tuh dig up his daughter's grave." Mather's voice started to cloud with emotion, struggling to finish his story. "But I swear I didn't know what he was gunna do, until the other guy pulled a gun on me! I didn't have a choice! I was darn near lucky they didn't kill me!"

"Tell him the rest." Carlise prompted without missing a beat.

Mathers cleared his throat. "They buried that young fella, alive."

"And then what happened?" Pride asked gently. He could tell the man was spooked and as much as he wanted to get to the bottom line and ask about the here and now he knew he had to let the frazzled looking caretaker work his way through the entire story.

"The man who paid me, shot himself and the other fella he just took off!" Mather's eyes went wide with disbelief. Doubtless the man was still in some sort of shock.

The man in the business suit placed a mollifying hand on Russell's shoulder. "It's ok."

Mather's turned his head, "I waited for the Po'lice tuh leave an… un…I dug 'em…the young fella back up, only the gear on the backhoe jammed and Miss Kelly's vault, slipped, that's why the other un was so torn up when y'all showed up." Mathers turned his head, guilt ridden, "I thought I killed 'em."

"But…he was still alive?" Pride had been almost hesitant to ask, but it was better to ask then to put off the inevitable.

Mathers started to nod furiously, "I…wanted…tuh help em but then that other fella showed back up. He came back tuh kill me!"

"So LaSalle shot him?" Pride finished.

"Yeah…surprised the hell of out me, the shape he was in, I would have thought the boy couldn't hit the side of uh barn if he was standin' two feet from it."

"Where is he, Russell? I promise ya won't be prosecuted for tryin'' to do the right thing." Pride restated. At this moment he would say or do anything just to know his friend was safe.

* * *

Chris LaSalle drifted in and out of sleep filled delirium, reacting slightly to the soft touch of a woman's hand against his cheek. The touch was calming to his nightmarish clouded mind that refused to believe that he was safe.

Occasionally, he would startle from the vivid, at times horrifying dreams, never fully awakening. His battered, run down system wouldn't let him. It had finally made the statement that it was shutting down to recover from the lunacy it had endured over the past week. Drugged out his mind with toxic Quaaludes, buried alive and nearly crushed to death. He was done.

Yep, the big crash had finally come and he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell of fighting it. Not that he wanted to really. The soft pillow that was cushioning his head, combined with the warm blanket that had been pulled up to his chest suited him just fine. Until his body told him otherwise, he was content to just breathe and let it do its thing.

He couldn't hear all of the little noises that he made when his heart started to accelerate with outright fear, from the thought of being trapped, buried under concrete and six feet of dirt. But he heard the sound of _her_ voice. His mind seemed to recognize it as a familiar voice, a soothing voice, so when she was near his heart rate calmed, the dreams and the fear all subsided.

The scent strawberries and vanilla lingered whenever she was near reminding him of her body wash, (the half-empty bottle of body wash that was still in his shower, the one that he refused to throw away).

 _Chris swept the long red locks of Savannah's hair aside, nipping her at neck as the warm droplets of the shower danced around her beautiful pale form._

 _"_ _Uh, you're out of soap," She pointed out as she reached into the soap dish and picked up the beige sliver of what remained of a once dense bar of manly Safeguard._

 _"_ _Don't matter, I'll just use this, " he shrugged, picking up his head and reaching over her for the clear bottle of red body wash that sat in his shampoo caddy, next to the Head and Shoulders._

 _Chris LaSalle don't you dare! Savannah shrieked. It wasn't a shriek of fear but one of playfulness, giddiness. Over the last several months she'd become accustom to his lively antics, a far cry from the shy and at times uptight, boy she remembered from high school._

 _Chris pressed the pop-up top and squeezed a quarter size amount into his palm as she turned to face him, winding her arms around his neck. "You got somethin' against your man smellin' fruity?" he quipped, giving her a quick peck._

 _"_ _Not if it helps keep other women from coming on tuh you," she smiled into his mouth as his hands fell to the center of her back, slathering the sudsy liquid up and down her bare spine._

 _She_ would hold his hand giving it a gentle squeeze and he would squeeze it back, a reflex, he was sure but nevertheless he felt _her_ warmth flowing through him and he welcomed it.

Every once in a while he would open his eyes to a blurry vision of _her_ , that he would never remember. She would just be a memory in the back of his mind, which would feed into rational thought, blaming his subconscious.

But by the time, _they_ arrived all visions of her had dissipated, leaving him with an empty void and unsettled sleep. He heard the sound of the door being kicked open, Pride's voice, Brody's voice but it didn't fully register until they touched him. He vaguely remembered the caretaker depositing him into the hands of someone else but he couldn't remember who.

"Chris? Can you hear me?" Brody gave his shoulder a firm squeeze as a pair of hazy disoriented blue irises came to life. He blinked once, twice and then shifted his eyes before finally focusing on his partner's face.

"Brody?" he questioned as her hand slipped away from his shoulder.

"Right here, partner." She was watching him carefully making him think he had a strange look on his face, which he probably did.

Everything was a blank; just like it had been the morning he woke up in that hotel room with a set of bite marks in his side. He tried to sit up a little taller and was immediately met with an all too familiar sensation of vertigo. "How did I get here?" he grimaced looking around at the unfamiliar sights of an off the beaten path motel room. A knot formed in his stomach as he was overtaken by a sick sense of deja'vu. How in the hell had this happened again?

Brody opened her mouth and then promptly closed it, choosing her words carefully. He was contemplating, trying to figure things out. "Are you sure you want the answer to that right now?"

His eyes fell to the sheets. Judging from her expression his nightmares of being trapped in the pine box had been more than real. "So then-"

Brody frowned at him before brushing her fingers through his hair to garner his attention.

"You're alive and right now that's all that matters." She didn't want to verify the details right now for fear of what it would do to the man, as it is was he would already need to spend time in a padded room to prevent everything that had happened to him in the past six months from swallowing him alive. Right now, she feared for him. She shuddered to think what he would do when he discovered that he'd for all practical purposes been entombed alongside his dead girlfriend. In time she would help him to put all of the pieces together but for right now he needed to comfort of his loving family.

He looked up at her and her heart turned over at the sight of his eyes. Aside from being a little bloodshot, for the first time in a week his pupils were normal size. She cupped his chin so that she could examine the side of his face. There was a long cut that started at his scalp that ran down to his cheek and sizeable gash in the meaty part of his left bicep. But other than that he seemed fine. But just to sure they'd have a doctor check him out when they got back to New Orleans.

"Let's get you home."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: So sorry for the long delay on this one. I must admit I have debating been how to tie things up and now I think I may have found a way to bring everything back together.**

Meredith Brody couldn't deny the fact that she'd fallen a little bit in love with her partner as she watched him kneel at the gravesite where he had nearly been entombed and place a large bouquet of purple tulips at the foot.

Savannah Kelly had been a lucky woman she thought intently staring at his chiseled jawline. But as evidenced, not everyone had shared that sentiment. Chris LaSalle was blessed to be alive and Brody had to wonder how he was going to cope with the idea that the mystery woman who had taken care of him after he'd been rescued from the grave was still out there.

Further questioning of Russell Mathers revealed that the caretaker had paid for the room they had found Chris in, but only for one night. He'd hoped that the maid would find the agent the following morning and get him the proper care that he needed. But someone else had slipped in and paid for three more nights, with an added note to refuse housekeeping.

AKA: LaSalle's mystery woman.

Part of Brody hoped that he would just take solace in the fact that he'd been well cared for and chalk it up to a Good Samaritan who preferred to remain nameless. But a few long stray blonde hairs found at the scene would make anonymity impossible. Pride had already taken the samples back to Sebastian for processing.

"You ready?" she asked watching her Bama Boy rise to his feet and turn to face her.

"Yup, in fact why don't you drive," Chris shoved his hands into his pockets as he fell in line with his partner and walked back to the truck. "I'm kind of tired."

"You just slept for two whole days," Brody grinned at him easily as she climbed into the driver's seat. He did still look a little worn out. But then who wouldn't be after being drugged, stalked, and entombed alongside your dead girlfriend. Then there was the whole nearly be charged as an accessory to murder part. No matter how much put on his famous grin, Chris LaSalle had been through more than his fair share of tragedy lately.

"Believe it or not, bein' buried alive takes a lot out of ya," Chris said, watching her press the keyless ignition. "I was lucky you were there for me, Pride too. If you hadn't of called me when ya did, I might have-"

"Pride and I would have never let that happen." Brody pulled the truck on the narrow asphalt path, slowly heading for the exit. "Sonja on the other hand…"

"Oh man, that's a scary thought." Chris let out a slight chuckle as Brody burst out into a fit of giggles. As funny as it was he still had to find a way to make amends with their fiery new team member.

"She's still pissed at you, you know." Brody commented looking in the rearview.

"Fer what exactly? Still lovin' Savannah?"

Brody's face fell slightly at the comment. Not that she could blame him. Six months was still a relatively short amount of time to grieve over someone you loved. "I think there's a little more to it than that."

"Percy and I'll be fine," he scoffed before breaking out in his signature grin before slouching down a bit and crossing his arms over his chest. "But you best just keep yer eyes on the road. Wouldn't want ya messin' up my truck."

"Oh…because you've done such an excellent job taking care of it the last six months," she laughed grinned, motioning to the pile of clothes and jackets that were taking up the back seat. "When was the last time you did your laundry, LaSalle?"

"It gets done. But for your information, I hardly need to do it at all." He was about to say that it because one of his many lady friends helped him out, but Brody cut him off.

"That's because you wear the same pants for three days in row."

"Nothin' wrong with that." LaSalle quipped pulling his Alabama baseball cap down over his eyes as he settled in for the near two hour trip home. "According to Gentlemen's Quarterly, you can wear a good pair of jeans for up to five days before washin' them. It helps to ensure that they maintain their shape and don't fade."

"Funny, I didn't know you could read." Brody said mischievously.

Chris lifted his cap and opened one eye, glaring. "Magna Cum Lade or have you forgotten?"

"You never cease to amaze me." There were things that Brody wished she could forget about her partner during the last six months, but for the moment things seemed to be back to normal and for that she was grateful.

Maybe that was why, she just kept driving when she saw a woman with bleach blonde hair step out from the shadows and pick up the flowers that Chris had left on Savannah's grave.

It was wrong for her not to stop, this Meredith Brody knew, but for LaSalle's sake she thought it was best to just let it go for now and give her partner a chance to recuperate. The evidence to the woman's identity was waiting for them at home and if Chris chose to pursue it would be his choice.

"Why do you say we stop at Chubby's on the way home and pick up some wings?" she asked, turning onto the main road that would take them out to the highway.

Chris looked at her again. "Chubby's twice in one week? There's something wrong with you." Either that or she was trying to smother him with comfort food as a means to cope with her own ride on the emotional rollercoaster of the last several days. "How about a nice Louisiana Strawberry Salad from Commander's Palace instead, my treat?"

"Whatever you want, LaSalle. I was just trying to look out for you but if you'd rather have salad, I'm all for it. Just so you know you will have to change your for pants for that." Commander's Palace was an upscale restaurant that required a certain dress code.

Again with the pants. LaSalle rolled his eyes as he pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial for the preferred restaurant. When the time came he would make certain that he was dressed appropriately. "Reservations at 8 and when we get home, I'll rifle through the back seat and see if I can find my good jacket, but I might need a place to shower."

Brody sank her teeth into her bottom lip, recalling the Molotov Cocktail that had all but destroyed his only bathroom and had them barely escaping with their lives. "Does that mean you're finally taking me on my offer to sleep on my couch?"

LaSalle sat up readjusting the seat. "It's kinda tough ta stay at my place when it doesn't have a bathroom, but I suppose I could use the one at the pizza place next door. They don't have a shower though."

"So, it's a yes," Brody smiled largely at him. Finally, he was getting out the place that she had longed believed was the trigger to his restlessness and womanizing.

"But it's temporary, when the bathroom's fixed I'm going right back."

"Chris-"

He could see the look in her eyes and knew where she was headed. "Look, it was my house before I started datin' Savannah and it'll continue to be my house long after, ok?"

"Ok, but I just think-"whether he wanted to or not, Brody was determined to get him out of that house and into something that didn't have the ghost of a dead woman staring at him every time he walked into the bedroom.

"Stop"

Obeying his request, Brody pulled the truck to the shoulder and slammed on the breaks before throwing the vehicle into park. She knew he wasn't speaking about stopping in the physical sense, but it seemed like a good avenue to get him to see reason. "Staying in that house is going to kill you!"

The last several days had been a good indicator of that so had the months of endless womanizing and partying before that. Chris was a cop and good one at that, ex-Vice in fact. How could he not be aware of the danger in city that was crawling with murderers and sexual deviants? More importantly, how could he not care?

"Start the truck." LaSalle clipped shooting her a murderous glance. He debated about adding in a few choice words for spite but then thought better of it.

"No."

"Just start the damn truck!" He said a bit more forcibly.

Brody shook her head. "I won't, not until this is settled."

Intense brown irises met angry blue ones in a standoff built up emotions, Merri being the first to speak, "You were stalked and buried alive because you can't handle sleeping in your own bed and an innocent woman was murdered with your badge pinned to her chest!"

Alexandria Hale was killed because she unfortunately resembled Savannah.

Chris tore his eyes away from her and rubbed his clenched jaw before tugging on the door handle. "Get out, I'm driving."

No. Brody held her ground, locking the doors as he circled around the truck, anger flashing hot. There was no way in hell she was giving up the driver's seat.

Chris tugged on the door handle, snapping it back. When it didn't open he snaked his hand down into his pocket. The door locks suddenly popped granting him access to the driver's side.

"Keyless remote, remember," he said dangling it in her face as he pulled open the door. "Now, ya gettin' out or do I have to take you out myself?"

Brody pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as she reached to undo the seatbelt. She would get out but this conversation was far from over. Swinging her feet to the side, she saw him extend his hand in a gentlemanly fashion that was indicative of his Southern charm, even when angry; he managed to keep his manners intact.

Begrudgingly, she reached for it debating about smacking the shit out him as his trademark grin started to climb across his lips. But she had done that once before and now sorely regretted it.

Perhaps it was time for a different tactic? Placing one foot on the running board, she graciously stepped down onto the asphalt, keeping a hold his hand as they passed one another in the transition. When she was certain his guard was down, Brody jerked his hand and spun back into him creating a faux dance move of sorts as his arm involuntarily wrapped her into his chest, making him grunt in surprise. Nose to nose, her hand instinctively reached up and cupped the side of his face, as her eyes shone with wanting.

"Brody-" Chris started to protest, but it was too late. She was already kissing him.

 **A/N: OMG Meredith Brody what did you do? And why did you let the blonde woman who took Savannah's flowers get away? For those who are still following this wild ride still has a couple of chapters to go!**


	16. Chapter 16

So many things started going through Chris' head as his lips automatically parted, inviting the warm, disarming kiss. Of all the people in the world, he didn't want to hurt, couldn't hurt, sweet Merri Brody. Not after she'd stood by him and ultimately saved his life by talking to him while he'd been entombed. He couldn't lead her on either. It wouldn't be fair when he was still grieving. But damn her tongue felt good meshing against his own. Unlike the women he picked up at the bar there was a sense of real emotion with it making his pulse quicken.

He didn't want it to end but whatever was beginning to happen between them wasn't going to work at least not right now.

He wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish or if she was acting on feelings that had emerged from the recent attempt of his demise. At any other time he might have decided to follow his gut and give into her but not today. He'd just laid fresh flowers at his dead girlfriend's grave. There was no way he could possibly think of actually being with someone else.

The timing was off.

His hands slid down her arms, curling his fingers around her defined biceps. Gently, he pushed her away breaking the kiss. "Trust me, ya don't want this." He said looking into her large, demanding chocolate eyes.

"Don't tell me what I want." She whispered into his mouth right before he pulled back his chin releasing the hold on her arms as she tried to grab the keyless remote.

"I can't." he said, snatching them back. So, that was her motivation for the potentially steamy kiss or so he thought wondering about her next move.

She looked at him a bit sheepishly, but not necessarily hurt which was a good sign, making him think she was more into it for control of the keys. He watched her carefully as she lowered her head nodding in agreement before starting to circle back around the truck.

 _Maybe not, but if being with me helps to keep you alive I'm all in._

"Excuse me?" Now he was the one looking confused. Brody said something but it was too soft for him to hear.

"Nothing," she replied in tone that he could understand.

Chris stood there a moment baffled as hell before climbing up into the driver's seat. His partner of almost two years had just dropped another huge bomb on him. The first had been when she slapped him for bringing up how her grief for Emily had caused the incident on the Moultrie.

The ride home was an uncomfortable one, mighty uncomfortable; silent with no eye contact whatsoever. Brody stared out of the passenger window while he kept his eyes sharply on the road ahead except for an occasional quick glance of her profile. Man, what had she been thinking? They were just partners, good friends weren't they? Some times it was hard to tell with the female agent. But she'd really come a long ways from the overly uptight person she had been when they first met and giving him her sister's necklace spoke volumes to just how much she really cared.

So, just as with the slap thing they were seemingly back to normal or at least that was the way it he was going to play it for now.

"Ya still want that dinner?" he asked, when they reached Loretta's guest house.

Reaching over the console, she gave his forearm a squeeze. "It's a been a long couple of days, I think I'll just go inside and relax with a nice glass of wine." It was the only thing she could think of to save face after making such a bold move on her partner.

Chris looked down at his lap, a bit disappointed but there was no sense in letting a good reservation go to waste. "Ok, I'll call up Pride see if he wants to go then."

Trading one life saver for the other Brody thought as she slid out of the truck before looking back, it was a good tactic. At least it was one that would keep him safe.

"Listen LaSalle, If you still want the couch-"she said reverting back to his last name, out of discomfort.

"I'm good," Chris answered quickly. Clearly, the discomfort was mutual.

Brody forced herself not to roll her eyes as he refused, knowing that it would only start their childish bickering all over again. "Well then, stay safe tonight and I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow." LaSalle repeated watching her disappear into the house before letting out a heavy sigh.

* * *

Brody stepped into the house and pressed her forehead to the front door before intentionally banging it against the solid oak. She had him agreeing to stay with her, out of that house of horror that he lived in and then she stupidly let him get away. A sick feeling in her stomach told her not to leave him alone. "You shouldn't have pushed, Merri." She said unaware of the presence in the room.

Loretta's hand fell to her shoulder and she jumped, shrieking a little.

"I didn't mean to startle you," the medical examiner apologized. "But you seem distressed. Is everything all right?"

"It's Chris. I'm worried about him." She confessed, stepping into the living room with Loretta. Worried was really an understatement. She'd seen the way that Chris looked at the attending physician in the emergency room when the man questioned him about had brought him to the E.R. As unbelievable as his story was the agent had barely been able to get the words out. But rather than a full-pysch evaluation LaSalle had managed to charm the man into letting him go with the promise that if he had any residual reactions to his being stalked and buried alive that he would be seek professional help. Brody had seen first hand how he had reacted to the trauma surrounding Savannah's death and feared what this new emotional upheaval might bring.

"That boy has been through _a lot_." Loretta said, emphasizing the words a lot.

"With the way, he reacts to all of it, I'm afraid he's going to end up dead on the street." This past week was proof that of that. Brody feared that as soon as the sun went down the man would be back at his bar of choice looking for a way to deal with all of the insanity that had come into his life.

"If there's one thing I know about Christopher, that he is resilient." Loretta squeezed the younger woman shoulders. "He'll get through this. But you I'm not so sure."

Brody frowned thoughtfully at her dear friend before following her into the kitchen. Loretta had obviously known Chris a great deal of time longer than she had but he was her partner. They'd for lack of a better term spent quality time together. Merri saw things in him that others did not. Pride was the only exception.

She knew the minute her tongue had touched his that the kiss wasn't exactly electrifying for him which is why she had gone for the keys, but at the same time she sensed that he was holding back. She seen him throw himself at strange women to temporarily curb his grief so he wasn't completely closed off to the idea of being with someone else. He just wasn't ready for the idea that he could actually love someone else. Obviously, he didn't want to just use her like the number of said faceless women he'd been with over the past six months and she appreciated that.

"Christopher has always kept his deepest hurts buried deep inside. I'll never forget when I first met him so uptight and angry. The only difference now is that he's learned to use a poker face and a charming smile," Loretta said reaching for the tea kettle.

"Don't get me started on that smile." Brody quipped, going to the cupboard to fetch to coffee style mugs.

* * *

"Sebastian ol' buddy!"

The official work day was nearing the end when LaSalle walked into the offices of the morgue. He still had a few hours before he had to meet Pride and Since going home and sleep were both out of the question he decided to put all of his energy into tracking down his so called mystery lady. He knew that it would not yield any tangible results if she were just a Good Samaritan but it was worth a try and it would keep his mind temporarily off of Brody and her impromptu kiss, the kiss that refused to leave his mind.

"LaSalle, what brings you here?" Sebastian looked rather nervous when the agent clamped his hand down on his shoulder. LaSalle had the look of needing something in his eyes and the weird scientist feared he knew what. The DNA samples that Pride had brought back from Mobile hit a match right away (a rather confusing match that would only bring up more questions).

"I need to know what you can tell me about those hairs that were found in the motel room in Mobile." Chris said, getting straight to the point.

"Everything and yet nothing," the lovable lab geek swallowed before changing the subject. "Shouldn't you be at home resting?"

"I'll rest when I find out the identity of my mystery lady. Now come on, cough it up."

Sebastian pressed a closed fist against his chest and proceeded to cough, pathetically, "Sorry, I got nothing."

"Nothing as in you don't have name?"

"Nothing as in I'm not allowed to tell you." Sebastian answered feeling quite small.

"Pride asked ya not tuh tell me?" Chris' lips fell into a tight line. First, Brody and now Pride? Talk about a pair of mother hens. Though he loved them both to death the coddling was already starting to get to him. The three of them needed to have a serious talk which would include some ground rules for helping through his most recent unfortunate event.

"Ordered actually." Sebastian shifting his eyes away from the shorter man.

"Oh I see, kind of like how I asked you not to tell him about the Hart case?"

Sebastian hung his head. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't win when it came to keeping things from his friends and truth be known it irritated him slightly when they asked, even if they had good intentions. "I knew you were going to bring that up." he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But I really can't, Loretta said she would-"

Chris circled around the counter so that he was facing the timid man. "The way I see it you owe me, Bud."

Sebastian looked away for a moment more before hastily tapping at his keyboard. "Her name is Claire Keats, 30 years old. No address. There you have it. Now let's go have a beer, well you can have a beer and I'll have a Tom Collins."

LaSalle's face twisted slightly, blocking out the gibberish, "How can she not have a last known address?"

"Oh maybe because she's a Doppleganger," Sebastian answered a matter-of-factly.

"Uh Dopple What?" What in the hell was the lab rat talking about? "Sebastian-"

"Doppleganger," Sebastian repeated, "It's an apparition that appears as a double to a living person."

"So you're telling me, Claire Keats is a ghost?"

"I prefer twin," Sebastian turned the computer monitor to reveal a picture of the mystery woman. "That is what Dwayne didn't want you to know. He thought it might upset you given that you were just almost laid to rest next to-" he said, stopping in mid sentence. LaSalle wasn't listening.

It might as well have been ghost Chris thought as all of the color drained from his face. With the exception of the blonde hair, Claire Keats was a dead ringer for Savannah. She had the same bright green eyes, small nose, high cheekbones and porcelain skin.

LaSalle raked a hand over his mouth, his throat suddenly going dry. He knew the wives tale that supposedly every person in the world had a twin, but like most he didn't believe it and Savannah, well, there was just no way that anyone could possibly. Alexandria Hale had sort of resembled the Southern Bell, but this... It couldn't possibly be right. Someone obviously was still playin' tricks and sick ones at that.

"Are you ready for the kicker?" Sebastian asked, his quickly paling friend.

Chris looked at his friend wild eyed as if that wasn't enough. Good god, what else could there possibly be?

"She's one of us or one of you." Sebastian added not realizing he was going in for the kill shot.

"What?" LaSalle dreaded what was coming next. As it was it he already felt like someone was trying to rip guts out and at the moment that person seemed to be Sebastian.

"She's an NCIS agent."

 **Disclaimer: Agent Claire Keats does not belong to me and is property of the NCIS franchise and CBS.**

 **But there you have it. The mystery woman has been revealed. The question is what is LaSalle going to do about it?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I don't really know what to say about this chapter except given the content it was fun to write. Oh, and to those who were disappointed that LaSalle rejected Brody's kiss in the last chapter, hopefully you'll have some restored faith by the time you finish reading.**

Brody craned her neck as she made her way through the crowded pub searching for Chris. Worry started to churn in her belly at the notion that the cat was out of the bag about Claire Keats and what it might do to Chris. Merri had purposely avoided the confrontation at the cemetery with the rogue agent for just this reason.

She knew after all that LaSalle had been through it would send him off the deep end.

"Have you seen this man?" she asked, squeezing her way in between two cozy looking female patrons so that she could show a photo of Chris to the bartender.

"I saw him disappear into the ladies room," the brunette next to her answered. "Went in there about ten minutes ago with a blonde chick, with bad low-lights"

The ladies room?

Brody rolled her eyes, pushing away from the bar, the nagging worry in her stomach confirmed. Chris had not only thrown himself off the deep end. He was also drowning in it.

Jaw clenched, she made her way to the back of the pub where the restrooms were located and slipped inside. The ladies room was pretty nice for a bar. It was a classier type complete with a spacious lounge area that separated the rest of the space from the stalls.

The stalls, ewe, Merri thought trying hard not to visualize what her partner might be doing in one of them with his new lady friend. Scratch that. No self-respecting lady would ever think of- In a bathroom stall much less. The very thought was degrading and insulting to her gender.

And why would he?

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long to find out.

The adjoining door swung open and out came Chris practically grinning into the lips of a blonde with light brown low-lights, clad in a form fitting black mini dress, her shoes still in her hands.

Merri tried not to think about why the woman would have taken her shoes off in the bathroom, but thought of her bare feet touching the floor of a public bathroom the sickened her.

Or maybe, she'd taken them off because her legs were wrapped around Chris. Even more disgusting.

 _Ahem_

"Brody?"

If Merri had to guess, she would say that Chris had jumped back at least 3 feet trying to separate himself from the woman that she had just about decided might be a hooker.

The well stacked blonde looked at the female agent, a scowl brewing on her face as LaSalle threw his hands up in surrender.

"She's not my wife, I swear."

"Ya think that would really matter at this point?" the blonde quizzed cupping LaSalle's cheek. "Let me know if ya wanna talk some more and in the mean time I'll see about getting you what you need."

"Appreciate that," Chris swallowed watching the blonde and Brody exchange what appeared to be predatory looks until the would be whore/pick up slipped out.

"What are ya doin' here?"

"It's the ladies room," Brody deadpanned, trying to quell her disgust. In the months following Savannah's death, she'd watched Chris LaSalle slowly lose himself in a sea of booze, parties and woman, but never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined this and especially not so soon after he had kiss her.

Ok, so she had kissed him.

It stung. No, it more than stung. It was humiliating and heartbreaking. She'd offered him comfort, support and even thrown herself at him. Was she so offensive that he'd rather get it on with some stranger in a bathroom stall than to spend one more moment with her?

"It ain't what ya think." Chris defended watching the wheels and cogs of her interrogator mind start to turn. If he had to guess she was about to ream him, a good un'.

"She wasn't wearing any shoes!" Brody hissed at him. She wasn't quite sure why that particular detail bothered her so much, but at the moment it was the equivalent of the woman coming out bare ass naked.

Chris tried to explain that his new found lady friend had caught her heel in one of the drain covers, but Brody wasn't listening. Evidently the only color she could see at the moment was green.

"You're disgusting." She retorted as a group of three women entered, stopping in their tracks.

"Should we come back?" One of them asked, eying the only male in the room.

"I was just leaving." He pushed past Brody, grabbed at her hand as he brushed by her, pulling her along while she protested.

Her berating insults fell upon deaf ears as Chris purposely ignored her, searching for the back door exit. Success. He pushed his way through, leading them straight into the classic back lot complete with an offensive smelling dumpster serving as a backdrop.

"You need serious help, Chris," Brody ground. It was obvious she'd failed her true mission, which was saving him.

"Would ya lem'me explain?" Chris let go of her hand, prepared to meet her head on.

"Oh…when I think of all the times, I defended you to Sonja…"

"Brody"

"And now come to find out she was right all along-"

"Brody listen-"

"To think that I actually let you put your tongue in my-"

"You kissed me!" LaSalle shouted a little more loudly than he intended. Deep frustrated etched in his face. "I already tol' ya. Ya don't want this!"

"You're right, I don't." Brody shot back, locking a furious set of chocolate orbs into his equally angry blue ones.

"That's a good thing. Trust me." Chris returned lowering his voice to an acceptable level as his partner muttered something about an STD waiting to happen.

"But just for the record, the blonde back there is an informant, formally for the NCIS Red Team. Patton set me up with her. She's helping me track down my mystery lady."

"Claire Keats," Savannah's look-a-like, Brody corrected, watching him nod. She had to admit that she was more than relieved to hear that Chris hadn't wasted any time in trying to find the rogue agent, who she had recently dubbed as his stalker. But that still didn't explain what he was doing in a bathroom stall of the ladies room.

"Turns out, Fawn Lynn-"

"Excuse me, Fawn Lynn?" That was actually her name? Now Brody was back to thinking the woman was a hooker.

"The informant," Chris said, trying to sound a little more politically correct. "Use-tuh meet up with the Red Team once or twice a year when they came through New Orleans to check on a terrorist group they were trackin'."

Brody's eyes widened slightly. "And we're just now hearing about it?" It was disturbing to say the least. But even within an Agency such as NCIS, there were secrets and levels of information, that only certain parties were privileged too. Their little family sized unit (well, not so little any more) was standard procedure mainly. They weren't equipped to handle some of the bigger threats that the specialized units were given.

"That was until budget cuts disbanded their team in 2012, reassigning all of the agents except for Agent Keats to different units around the globe." LaSalle continued.

"And why is that?" Brody quizzed, genuinely intrigued.

"Nobody seems tuh seems to know." Chris shrugged. "or if they do, they ain't sayin'"

"Deep undercover?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Relaxing, Merri let her shield of contempt down a little bit. Damned if she'd admit it, but she had been a little hard on Chris about the ladies room. "If you really want my guess; Claire Keats is long gone and you haven't slept since before we left Alabama."

Leaning in she sniffed playfully at his clothing. "Or showered."

"Now that ain't fair. You know I don't have a bathroom."

"Well, luckily for you, I do." She outstretched her hand. "And this time, I'm not taking no for an answer." The last thing she wanted was to see him run himself down again.

Chris dipped his chin, a full-blown grin sliding across his face. "Ya never give up do ya?"

"Not when it's a friend I care about." They would look at things again in the morning, but for right now, she wanted to get him home and tucked away before Claire Keats or heaven forbid anyone else should try to take another crack at him.

"Pretty lucky friend," Reluctant to take her hand, Chris offered her his arm, which she graciously accepted.

"So, have you ever actually been with someone in a bathroom stall?" Merri asked as they started in the direction of the parking lot.

"No, can't say that I have." Chris answered trying to gauge her expression as they walked through the cool night air. "But uh…after I get over this grieving business, I sure wouldn't mind taking a shot at it, if yer still willin'?"

Brody stopped to face him, her face flushing. Had he actually just propositioned her? "I might just hold you to that, LaSalle," A greedy spread across her face, letting him know she was more than willing to become more than just his partner when the time was right.

"Well then, Meredith Brody, I guess we have something to look forward to." Nervously, he wet his lips. Merri was a beautiful woman, both inside and out. Over the last several weeks, she pulled him out of more scrapes that he could count, saved his life and was now hatching plan to prevent his own zealous self-destruction.

God, he loved this woman. Not in the physical sense. That would have to wait until later. What he had with Brody went beyond the physical need. It transcended into the very depth of his battered soul, even though he had fought so readily against it.

 **A/N: Hmm...Chris has agreed to stay with Merri for the time being. Will she eventually wear him down? What will happen when they finally meet up with Claire?**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Here we are at a long overdue update.** **I'm glad so many of you enjoyed the bathroom Cherri scene in the last chapter. For being so patient and sticking with me, there's a nice Cherri moment waiting. ;)**

Christopher LaSalle had to admit, there was a part of him that purposely wanted the reconstruction on his bathroom to be delayed for the fact that he loved Meredith Brody's couch. Now grant it wasn't as comfortable as a pillow-topped queen sized bed, but the cushions were comfortable enough that he didn't have a worry about a good night's sleep.

Then there was Merri herself of course, who had grown accustomed to snuggling up next him, in the crook of his outstretched arm as it laid across the top of the couch cushions, while they engaged in the latest episodes of her favorite, do it yourself show on the Home and Garden Channel, or her favorite Lifetime movie.

One night she'd actually fallen asleep, up against his arm, her head slightly on his shoulder. He didn't have the heart to wake her so instead; he sat there with his arm dead asleep from lack of movement.

Day by day it was getting harder and harder to fight off his growing feelings for the female agent. He had to give it to Brody though for the most part she respected his need to wait.

He suspected his obsession with needing to track down Claire Keats, had something to do with it. Now that he had Pride's blessing to hunt the rogue NCIS agent she was practically all he thought about it and with good reason. Though she had kept him safe after being buried alive she had failed to seek assistance, making her actions seem suspicious.

Had she been a part of Peter Kelly's sick plot to destroy him?

It stood to reason, that at some point, Claire would try to make contact with him again. It was just too strange to think that she would presumably care for him for three days in an off the beaten path motel room and never show her face again. She must of wanted something and another tip from Fawn Lynn, confirmed just that. As it turned out, the former, NCIS Red Team member had reached out to the informant asking her to keep tabs on Chris.

"How do we know we can trust Fawn?" Brody asked as she looked around the crowded night club for any sign of Claire.

"Patton says, we can trust, her and I trust him," Chris said, placing his hand at the small of her back, as if he were trying to maintain some sort of cover with her as his date.

Brody gave him the eye. "I trust him too, but it doesn't mean that you aren't in some sort of danger."

"If Claire wanted tuh hurt me, she could have easily done so back in Bama. Besides we've got Percy and Ross P watching our six."

Merri glanced at her partner skeptically. The only six Ross P was watching was Sonja's. It seemed that ever since Chris had brought the ex-con into the folds of their little family that he'd developed a little crush on the stereotyped tough girl, agent.

"C'mon, we've got a few minutes before Claire gets here." Automatically, the male agent tugged on her hand, leading her out to the dance floor.

"Ya ever two-step?" He had only meant to loosen her up, a bit, reassure her that he would be okay but seemingly it had an adverse effect. Merri seemed more uptight than ever, making him think she would rather have Percy's role of coordinating the take down. It made sense he guessed, considering how protective of him she'd become since their kiss after leaving the cemetery in Alabama.

"What? Chris, No!" Too late. His hand was already in hers with the opposite on her hip, guiding her through the steps. Silently, Merri prayed it wouldn't break out into a line dance where she would have to operate her two feet on her own. As graceful as she was on a day to day basis, dancing was a completely different story. Like most people she could do the typical sway side to side move with your partner but when it came to traditional ballroom or the more popular country line dancing she was a complete klutz.

Obviously, her partner, being from the South was an expert. "It's like walkin, quick, quick, slow, slow, turn."

Paralyzing fear gripped her until she realized what he was doing. If Claire came in and saw him having a good time, she would assume his guard was down, making her feel secure in her quest to continue stalking him.

Willing herself to follow his lead (which wasn't that hard after all), she lost sight of her fear and relaxed into the comfort that was just him. The feel of his hand in hers, and on her hip was starting to have an intoxicating affect. If it weren't for the fact that they were here to trap Claire Keats, she could dance with Chris like this all night.

"Goldilocks is in the house," they both heard Percy say into their coms. "LaSalle she's at your six O'clock."

"Easy, just keep doing exactly what you're doing, and don't make eye contact. Percy and Ross P have got this." Merri said, gently as he turned her so that he could finally get a glimpse of the mystery agent who looked so much like Savannah.

The initial glance instantly felt like someone had driven a knife through his chest. Even from across the room the resemblance was uncanny, suddenly making his heart yearn for the woman he had lost.

"Turn, look at me, and smile," he heard Merri say as they continued their loop around the dance floor.

It wasn't so much the sound of Brody's voice that brought him back as it was the stomping of her foot upon his toe that made him look at her. The smile however wasn't going to happen. He was in too much shock.

"Keep your head in the game. Let Sonja handle this."

"I can't. C'mon, I've got an idea." He said when the song ended.

Brody started to protest as he held tightly to her hand and dragged her out the front door, hoping Claire would follow. Once they were outside, Chris ducked into the ally way, and deposited his partner up against the corner wall where they were sure to be seen by anyone leaving the club.

Claire included.

Flanking, her face, he heard Merri yelp in surprise, when he suddenly pressed his mouth to hers and starting kissing her with wild abandon. He knew it probably wasn't the best move, considering his partner's feelings toward him, but he needed something to engage Claire and make her think that he still had no clue as to her existence.

Otherwise, he would have stayed in that club and tipped her off, simply because he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Seeing her in the flesh was almost more than he could handle.

But standing here outside, kissing Brody well that helped to keep him grounded a bit even if it did sound a bit selfish. He wasn't sure as to why suddenly the heart pounding fear he had felt just a couple of minutes ago had faded as a quickly as it appeared other than Brody made him feel safe and secure. He had to admit, taking the initiative to kiss her on his own rather than being surprised by her forwardness, made him feel more at ease. This time around he was actually enjoying it. The way her tongue felt meshing with his own, the slight aftertaste from the sip of beer she had taken when they first arrived at the club, the feel of his strong hands against the soft skin of her face, everything about her, felt right until he remembered Claire.

Breaking the kiss, he noticed the pleading, almost frightened look in her eyes. She was conflicted and so was he. They'd just gotten over her impromptu kiss and now he was the one doing the impromptu kissing?

Her lips parted and she was about to say something until from over his shoulder she noticed Claire standing a just a couple of feet away from them casually lighting a cigarette at the curb. She appeared to be waiting for a cab.

"Now" she told him as if this had been a well thought out plan all along. She could read Chris' actions so well, that she knew he was only looking for a way to get physically closer to Claire, without scaring her off.

She was literally less than 10 feet away, an easy capture between the four of them if they played their cards right. Although they couldn't see the third member of their team, Percy and Ross were around somewhere.

Chris gave Brody a simple nod, turned and made a straight beeline for Claire.

"Claire Keats, NCIS!"

Dropping, her cigarette, the well trained agent, grabbed at a man walking beside with his girlfriend. "Help me, that's my ex and he's crazy he wants to kill me!" She shrieked before darting out into the street, cars laying down on their horns she skirted around them.

"We're Federal Agents," Chris shouted pulling out his badge as the man started toward him. Thankfully, the burly man was only a momentary distraction putting him about twenty steps behind Claire.

Dang, she could run fast he thought as he chased her down the dark sidewalk, dodging pedestrians every few feet while Brody trailed steadily behind, the traffic in the street putting a significant distance between them.

Darting into an alleyway, LaSalle continued to follow the rogue agent at top speed until he saw Percy and Ross round the corner at the opposite end, trapping her.

Claire skidded to stop, reaching behind for the weapon she had tucked into the back of her jeans. A skilled agent, she was trained to carry wherever she went.

"Don't do it, Goldilocks," Percy warned, pulling her own SIG Pro 228.

Raising her hands, Claire turned to face LaSalle. She was breathing hard. "I haven't done anything wrong."

For several seconds, Chris just stared at her, taking in the features of her face. Her resemblance to Savannah was severely messing with his head. "Ya don't call, holding a federal agent hostage doin' anything wrong?"

"I wasn't holding you hostage. You were sleeping," Claire argued as Percy stepped up behind her, cuffing the former RED Team agent just as Brody appeared.

"You can explain it all to Director Vance. He wants to talk to you."

Claire narrowed her sharp green eyes at the older female agent who had been just minutes earlier been making out with LaSalle. "I don't work for NCIS anymore; Vance has no claim on me. I'm a private citizen now."

"Save it for your lawyer," Percy grumbled as she started to cart Ariel's twin sister off to the SUV giving her two other teammates some privacy.

For several moments they both just stood staring into Claire's back as she was led away by the smaller agent and Ross P.

"Are you okay?" Brody asked, letting her hand trail down Chris' spine. She watched as he pursed his lips and swallowed uncomfortably, making her question moot.

"She sounds just like-" he swallowed again, his voice changing to a whisper "Savannah…" Minus the accent. Claire's voice was smooth more like people who lived on the West Coast, where as Savannah's had been a bit twangy, not as pronounced as his own but you could definitely tell that she had hailed from the South.

Taking his hand, Brody laced their fingers, figuring he wouldn't mind considering the kiss he had given her a little while ago had been a little more than friendly; even if he was playing a role. "We'll get to the bottom of it, all of it."

Chris nodded woodenly letting her steer him in the direction of the truck. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed to lean on Brody now, needed her to help him keep his emotions in check once the interrogation started.

Now that they had Claire in custody he had the feeling that he might be heading for another downward spiral. Part of him had to wonder why a highly trained NCIS agent who once travelled around the globe, living with her co-workers allowed herself to be captured so easily. Like the LA based team of Special Operations, the RED team was specially trained at a higher level than himself or even Pride.

Did she want to get caught? If so, why? And what connection did she have to him? Until they got back to the office and started questioning her the mystery remained unsolved.

 **A/N: So, we now have 2 kisses and a slap. Do I detect a subconscious romance blossoming between our two agents? And what will Claire have to say that now that she is custody?**

 **Again, Claire Keats is property of CBS television and the NCIS LA franchise. I am just borrowing her for my own amusement and using what little is known about her.**


End file.
